


A Second Chance

by paper_prescott



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-13
Updated: 2016-10-24
Packaged: 2018-08-22 05:54:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 37,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8275196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paper_prescott/pseuds/paper_prescott
Summary: Three names. One woman. She's been looking for a second chance for a long time, but her past is hot on her trail. ~ [Sherlock x OC] + [Moriarty x OC]





	1. Prologue

_Her eyes flickered open._  
_She didn't have much time._  
_Quietly, quickly and as softly as possible she pried the arms around her waist off of her and slipped out of the bed, her feet padding against the carpeted floor as she made her way to the wardrobe. She tugged out an outfit she could hardly see in the dark and made for the door, her hand freezing inches away from the doorknob when she heard a groan from the bed._  
_"Where are you going?" Asked a tired voice._  
_"Nowhere," She replied, trying to hide the shake in her voice. "I just need to use the bathroom."_  
_"Shall I stay awake for you?"_  
_"No, that's fine. I'll be back before you know it, silly." She tried her best to make her voice sound lighthearted, and it seemed to work. The voice from the bed laughed gently and there came the sounds of the duvet being pulled up._  
_"If you say so. Don't take too long, I'll miss you."_  
_"Got it." She whispered in return, and then slipped out of the room._  
_She didn't have much time._  
_She rushed to the bathroom, throwing off her pyjamas and pulling the day clothes on. He was staying awake for her, she knew it, even though he said he wouldn't. She took a deep breath and reached for the cupboard where they kept the toothpaste, pulling back various bottles of body wash and shampoo to reach the secret compartment she'd built in a few days before. Opening it, she took out the small air plane ticket inside and left the bathroom in a rush, knowing she had to hurry up to make it on time. She almost hesitated outside the door to the bedroom but carried on down the hallway after sending it a glance. He would realise something was wrong soon, if he hadn't already. She did her best not to break into a sprint, hurrying down the stairs and down into the main lobby where the reception desk was and out the doors of the hotel. The night air was cold, biting, and she shivered. She could run now. She broke into a sprint, running around the side of the hotel to where the bins were. She sent a cautious look around and then threw one of the bins open, pulling out a large suitcase she had planted there earlier, and then broke into a sprint again, running back the way she had come, her suitcase trailing behind her._  
_She didn't have much time._  
-  
"Hi, I'm Renee Waters," The woman speaking held out a pale hand to the old lady opposite her. "The one who said I was interested in moving in here?"  
"Oh, of course!" The old lady smiled kindly, looking slightly surprised at the sight of the bookish girl as she took her hand. "So nice to meet you!" The old lady paused. "Sorry, it's just, I wasn't expecting someone so... Young. And so pretty too!"  
"Oh, thank you." Renee blushed, waving away the compliment and looking down to hide her slight blush, her long brown hair falling into her face. "Mrs. Hudson, wasn't it?"  
"Yes, my dear, that's me." The old lady ushered Renee into the building. "Now... Are you sure you want this place?"  
"Of course." Renee answered without hesitation. "It's perfect." Mrs. Hudson made a small noise of unenthusiastic agreement, handing Renee the key. Renee opened the door to reveal the dampened walls of 221C Baker Street. The vague smell of mold wafted through the apartment, causing Mrs. Hudson to cast an anxious glance towards small girl beside her. To her surprise, Renee was smiling.  
"And you said no one else was living at Baker Street besides you?" She asked innocently, turning to Mrs. Hudson.  
"Well, you may get someone living upstairs in a while, but you don't have to worry about him. Good man, he is. He helped me out a while ago with my husband." Mrs. Hudson replied.  
"You have a husband?" Renee asked in surprise.  
"Used to." Mrs. Hudson said casually. "Anyway, darling, are you sure it's alright?" Renee turned back to look out across the room she was in, taking in the smell of mold and the sight of dampness on the walls.  
"Oh, Mrs. Hudson. Like I said before," She grinned. "It's perfect."  
-  
_When the plane was about to take off, she got a text. She took out her phone and looked at it cautiously. She'd taken the tracker out only hours ago, no doubt he'd just noticed._  
_'Where are you?'_  
_She didn't reply, but turned her phone off instead and stared out the window of the plane as someone sat next to her. Tears gathered in her eyes. She'd never felt quite this scared before. No doubt she looked a mess right now, and she felt like one too. But she had to do this. This was her shot at a second chance._


	2. Sherlock Holmes

Renee huffed, pushing her hair out of her face before placing her hands on her hips. She surveyed the room with a look of pride, moving to one of the several bookcases where she ran her fingertips over the many books, smiling softly. She knew she shouldn't get used to it, this place feeling like home, but it just did, even though she'd just moved in. They always did. Any place was home compared to where she'd been trapped before. Shaking the thought out of her head she stretched, cringing as her back popped loudly, and then let out a deep breath. She'd moved in completely now, just had to get rid of all these empty cardboard boxes. God knows how long she was going to be at Baker Street for though; she was hoping for at least a year and a half. Mrs. Hudson seemed nice. Not that she was allowed to get attached.  
"Look at me," Renee huffed, poking her head gently. "I stand still for a few seconds and I start thinking negatively. I need to get food for this place... When will I learn? Got to keep moving." She moved to grab her coat, shrugging it on and tucking the keys and purse into her pocket. " _Always_ moving." She mumbled, leaving to walk for the door. Just at the door frame she hesitated, one arm automatically going to hug the other. She chided her self in her head for being scared and took a deep breath, walking out of the door and shutting it behind her. Even after three years it was hard to leave the house.  
"Oh, deary!" As she was about to leave Baker Street she heard Mrs. Hudson's door open and the lady call out for her. Renee turned with a smile. "I thought I heard you out here. Just to let you know, that person I mentioned is coming to look at 221B, just upstairs, today."  
"Oh, they are?" Renee asked curiously. "Who did you say they were?"  
"He's around your age deary, a bit odd mind you. But nice! Very nice, don't you worry. You just... have to get to know him," Mrs. Hudson rambled.  
"He sounds wonderful, Mrs. Hudson." Renee reassured her kindly. "But what's his name?"  
"Sherlock Holmes." Mrs. Hudson answered, not noticing the flicker of recognition in Renee's eyes. Renee's eyes dropped for a split second, and then she looked back up at Mrs. Hudson with her smile back firmly on her face. "He has a website, dear, you should look him up."  
"I'll do that as soon as I get back." Renee assured the landlady. "I best be getting my food now, though."  
"Of course, off you go. He might be here by the time you get back."  
-  
Renee walked the streets of London with her head down, staring at the bags of food in her hands, but still able to walk through the crowd without bumping into anyone. Every now and then she glanced up at the faces around her, seeing if she could pick any familiar ones out in the business, each time sighing in relief when she didn't. Partly, it made her feel a bit lonely, but she knew she should be used to that by now. Being on the run did that to people. Still though, she thought. If she was right and she could stay at Baker Street for a year and a half, she was bound to make some sort of friends, right? Maybe, she thought, even with Sherlock Holmes. She'd heard his name once before and it hadn't been under the best circumstances, but she was still curious no doubt. Pausing in her steps she headed for a nearby park, seating her self at one of the benches and placing her bags of food next to her, fishing out her phone. "Sher...lock... Holmes..." Renee muttered to her self out loud as she typed his name into google, raising an eyebrow at the results. The Science of Deduction. "Huh." She clicked on the link and smiled slightly in surprise when she saw the results pop up on screen, reading through them. "Oh, I see." She carried on muttering to her self under her breath as she scrolled through the pages, absentmindedly chewing on her lip as she did so. "He's very clever. I'll have to be specially careful." Sighing, she put her phone away and leaned against the bench, watching people walk by. Without meaning to she began to read some of them, picking their lives apart bit by bit. She hadn't trained her eyes to stop that, and she wasn't sure if she could. Part of her didn't want to. Reading people was a guilty pleasure for her to be sure. Her lips twitched up and she crossed her arms. Oh well. She had some time to do people watching.  
-  
When she got back to Baker Street there was a small pile of cardboard boxes at the bottom of the stairs, along with Mrs. Hudson.  
"Oh, hello, Renee, dear!" She greeted Renee warmly. "You took longer than I expected, Sherlock is already moving the beginning of his things in." There was a crash from upstairs. Mrs. Hudson flinched. "Well, he will do if he doesn't break all of it." There was the sound of a door slamming open, and then a man bounded down the stairs, his head down so all Renee could see was a mop of curly dark brown hair as he pulled on a large coat. "Oh, Sherlock, look who's back!" The man, Sherlock, froze, lifting his head up with a calculating look in his eyes, eyebrows furrowed. His gaze swept over Renee once, and then a second time, and she shifted nervously from foot to foot.  
"Hi." She greeted him lamely. "Um, Mrs. Hudson told me about you," Sherlock raised his eyebrows, and when she spoke his voice was deeper than Renee expected.  
"Evidently." He side stepped the two women to pick up another cardboard box, seemingly not interested in Renee anymore.  
"I read your website." She said eagerly, and he froze once more, turning to look at her. "Whilst I was out shopping. On my phone, I mean."  
"Oh yes?" Sherlock sniffed, straightening his back. "What did you think?"  
"It was amazing, Mr. Holmes," Renee answered honestly, and his lips twitched up.  
"Really?" Sherlock asked. "Is that so?"  
"I find it absolutely interesting." She admitted, and Mrs. Hudson clapped her hands together next to Renee happily.  
"There you go Sherlock!" The landlady said. "Someone who appreciates your work!"  
"Hm." Sherlock looked as if he were searching for hints of sarcasm. "And you believed it?" Renee blinked.  
"Believed it?" She laughed. "You said you could identify a software designer by his tie and an airline pilot by his left thumb." Sherlock didn't reply, just stared back. "I completely believe it."  
"Oh." Sherlock frowned for a second, as if he didn't know what to say. He took one step closer, narrowing his eyes at you. "Why?" Renee shrugged, looking down to avoid his intense gaze.  
"Why shouldn't I?" She asked, and then stepped around Mrs. Hudson. "Now, if you don't mind me I better put my food away. Um, I assume you're moving the rest of your stuff upstairs tomorrow?" Sherlock didn't answer, watching Renee curiously, so Mrs. Hudson did instead.  
"Yes, and he'll be getting a flatmate before you know it."  
"Oh really? Will they have a website too?" Renee asked innocently.  
"Don't know yet." Sherlock shrugged, then paused. As Renee was opening her door he spoke up again. "Do you mind the violin?"  
"Hm?" Renee brushed back a piece of her hair, all her food bags now balancing on one arm, and turned to look at Sherlock. "The violin?"  
"Yes, I play it when I'm thinking. Sometimes it can go on for a while." Renee thought for a second, one finger tapping her bottom lip.  
"Then I hope you think a lot." She joked finally. "I do love the violin."  
"Trust me," Sherlock turned to bound back up the stairs. "I never stop," And off he went. Mrs. Hudson looked pleased, still holding her hands together.  
"Oh, well that went well! Usually... Well, you don't need to know what happens usually." She stopped her self, hurrying back into her room. Renee watched her go with an amused expression, and then stepped into her own apartment, shutting the door behind her gently. There come a loud thud from upstairs and she cast her eyes upwards as she dropped the bags full of food on the kitchen counter, wondering what Sherlock's flat mate would be like. Hopefully, she thought, they would horrible and so would Sherlock turn out to be, and Mrs. Hudson was secretly an assassin or something, and then she wouldn't miss anyone when she left. For a second she paused, imagining Mrs. Hudson decked out all in black handling ninja stars, and burst into small giggles. Maybe that wasn't too likely.  
-  
The next day Renee woke up at 6:30, yawning as she clambered out of bed in her onesie and fluffy socks. Today was her first day of work. She didn't start until 11 but she couldn't stop her self from waking up this early. Old habits die hard, she supposed. By the time she'd showered and dressed and eaten breakfast it wasn't even 9 yet, so she sat her self down at her desk with plenty of time to spare for her makeup, which took a long time each day considering she had to change the way her face looked ever so slightly all whilst using the smallest amount of make up she could. Make her lips look softer, her eyes wider, her nose slimmer, her cheekbones more defined, just by a little bit. But altogether it did make a difference, and that was what she wanted. Once that was finished she began to hum under her breath and set to covering the small scar on her chin up. Just as she was finishing she heard the door to Baker Street being knocked on and Mrs. Hudson moving to answer it. By the noises she could hear she could tell it was Sherlock and she stood, wondering if she should go out and say hello. No, her head told her. Don't try and make friends. But before she knew it, there was a knock on her own door. Jumping at the sound, she cautiously moved to answer it. Swinging the door open and expecting Mrs. Hudson she was surprised to find Sherlock on the other side of the door.  
"Miss. Waters." He greeted her.  
"Mr. Holmes." She replied with a smile. "You moving the rest of your stuff in today then?"  
"Yes, actually." He confirmed, taking a step back. "You want to help me?" Renee tilted her head.  
"Oh. Um, sure."  
"Great. Let's get moving." And he walked away. Renee blinked at his sudden disappearance and then grabbed her keys, rolled her eyes and closed her door behind her and followed after him. She found him at the bottom of the stairs once again surrounded by boxes. "You grab one, just follow me upstairs." He ordered.  
"Oh, Sherlock," Mrs. Hudson said disapprovingly. "You haven't got Renee to help you, have you? She's your neighbour not your moving team."  
"It's OK, Mrs. Hudson. I'm happy to help." Renee said, picking up a box near her feet. It was strangely heavy and she wondered what was in it.  
"I swear Sherlock, if one of those boxes has a head in-" Mrs. Hudson started.  
"A head?!" Renee blanched, nearly dropping the box she was holding.  
"Oh don't worry," Sherlock waved a hand dismissively, picking up another box. "I'm not so stupid to put a head in a cardboard box." "Your flatmate better look out for the fridge though." Mrs. Hudson scoffed. Sherlock sent Renee's surprised look a tight lipped smile, her slightly shaking hands not going unnoticed, and began jogging upstairs. Renee started and followed after him, jogging the best she could with the heavy box in her arms. "Careful with that box!" Sherlock shouted back over his shoulder as she heard clanking from inside it.  
"Er, right. Sorry." She mumbled, still shocked by Mrs. Hudson's comment. Sherlock swung the door to 221B open and stepped inside. Renee followed behind him.  
"Put it in the kitchen." And then, as an afterthought, "Please." She gazed around at the messy room with a small smile. It suited Sherlock's personality from what she'd seen. She placed the box down gently on the kitchen table and turned to leave the kitchen to find Sherlock standing in the way.  
"Um." She wasn't sure what to say. "Hi."  
"You've lived a pretty sheltered life, haven't you?" He asked.  
"Oh, I see." Renee's smile faltered. "You brought me up here so you can deduce me, right? Away from Mrs. Hudson?" Sherlock shrugged. "I'll take that as a yes. Why, do you think I don't believe you can do it?"  
"Most people don't." Sherlock said blankly.  
"I like to believe." Renee was beginning to feel more and more uncomfortable. "And yes. I have lived a sheltered life."  
"Come from a wealthy family." Sherlock commented in a casual voice. "You can afford 221C all by your self. Went to a private school." Renee squirmed under his gaze. "But not to university. Why?"  
"Boring." Renee answered with a small shrug. "Not my thing. I went straight into-"  
"Getting a job. Jumped from job to job. All quiet little jobs, mind you. Moved over here from America, am I right?"  
"Spot on." Renee moved to walk past Sherlock, and when he wouldn't move she shoved past him instead, their shoulders bumping. "But you were born in Ireland."  
"Well, yes, I have an Irish accent." Renee felt her patient wearing thing, her anxiety beginning to creep up in her stomach. Sherlock rolled his eyes.  
"No siblings, parents are dead. No pets, but definitely likes cats. A bit shy, awkward, show signs of mild anxiety, and your body would suggest you have training in self defence." Sherlock continued, walking closer to Renee.  
"Yes, and I'll use it if you keep walking up to me like that," Renee sent him a glare, moving to walk out of the apartment, but he grabbed her wrist. On instinct she twisted her arm out of his grip, stumbling back with her eyes wide in panic. "Don't touch me!" There was a moment of silence where Sherlock stood watching her as she breathed heavily, stood in a fighting stance.  
"I was right." He said approvingly. "Definitely knows self defence. So, what do you need defence from?"  
"You, apparently." Renee backed away towards the exit again. "You can deduce me all you like, Mr. Holmes, but don't touch me." And with that she fled down the stairs.  
"Call me Sherlock!" He yelled after her, watching her go with a glint in his eyes. This new girl was a mystery. She was hiding something, and he was going to get to the bottom of it.  
-  
When she left for work at 10:30 she could still hear Sherlock moving around upstairs. There were still several cardboard boxes at the bottom of the stairs that she stepped over to get out of Baker Street, and once she was in the fresh air she inhaled and exhaled deeply, in through her nose and out through her mouth. Maybe she shouldn't be friends with Sherlock Holmes, she wondered. He seemed determined to know all the ins and outs of her life - well, not that this was her real life, anyway, but still. Yes, she thought. Stay away from Sherlock Holmes. A 20 minute walk later and Renee found her self outside her work place - a small bookshop named rather uncreatively, 'Once Upon A Book'. It was only tiny, but very cute, with fairy lights strung outside and tiny fairy wind chimes hanging from the archway over the door. There was a tinkling sound as she opened the door and stepped inside. She'd only been here once before, but she loved it. The atmosphere was so calm and peaceful, something she absolutely craved. For a small shop it had a lot of books inside, all crammed together, from dictionaries to books on witchcraft. If you didn't know where you were going it could be a bit of a maze of book shelves. That's a good tactic, Renee thought in amusement as she directed her way through the shelves towards the counter, just trap your customers in your shop, don't let them leave until they buy something. When she reached the counter the small girl behind it looked up from her book. Renee smiled at her kindly. She'd met this girl when she came to apply for the job. Her name was Cassidy Morgan and she was a safe person to be around. Her past was pretty simple - she was 33, she grew up in England with a large family who all loved her, had a steady relationship going with the other owner of the bookstore and, what Renee liked most, she had two cats. A ginger and a tabby.  
"Renee, hi!" Cassidy grinned. Renee moved to shake Cassidy's hand over the counter but instead was pulled into a surprise hug. "It's good to see you again!" Her voice was loud, which didn't match her bookish looks, but it was a comforting sound all the same. Cassidy swung the little door to behind the counter open and Renee stepped in, dazed from the hug.  
"Hello." She managed to say before Cassidy started speaking again.  
"For your first day you'll be working in the back and helping sort out new arrival books with Jerry," That was her boyfriend. "I know it doesn't sound too exciting but you know, it's your first day, what can I say, right?"  
"Right." Renee agreed in amusement as she was ushered into the back. It was only a small space, but once again it was filled with books. A man stood amongst them all, ruffling his messy blonde hair. He looked up as his girlfriend pulled Renee into the room and smiled.  
"Renee, isn't it? Good to see you again."  
"You too." Renee replied politely as Cassidy slung an arm over her shoulder.  
"Now, you two, have fun working together today, because I'm going to be out on the counter all day!" She pulled a comical face. Renee looked at Jerry in slight discomfort, but hid it seconds later with her grin.  
"It'll be fun to get to know you." She told him.  
"Likewise." He replied.  
"Remember, he's a taken man, Renee." Cassidy slapped her on the back in a friendly fashion.  
"Of course." Renee laughed. "I wouldn't dream of making a move."  
"Get back out on the counter, you," Jerry flapped his hands in the direction of the rooms exit. "You have a job to be doing."  
"Rightio!" Cassidy disappeared as Jerry began stepping over books to reach Renee, shaking her hand once he reached her, not noticing her pull her hand away from him pretty quickly.  
"Well." He said. "Let's get to work!"  
-  
_Oblivious to the stares of the two males a while away from her, Imogen Blake stirred her drink with one finger, staring down at her distorted reflection with tired eyes. It was late, and she was regretting leaving her house and coming here. She missed her bed. And her cat._  
_"Are you sure that's her?" One of the men said to the other._  
_"Sebastian, I'm positive. I wouldn't exactly forget her would I?" The other replied snarkily. Sebastian rolled his eyes. "_  
_Sure." He mumbled. "What do we do now? She won't want us just walking up to her and saying, hi, do you want to start murdering people for us?" It was the other man's time to roll his eyes now._  
_"Which is exactly why we're not doing that." He said. "Some people have a little more tact."_  
_"Then what are we doing?"_  
_"Follow along." The man grinned to Sebastian and stood, strolling towards the still hunched over girl. When he reached her he tapped her on the shoulder and she spun around in shock, hands up, clearly ready to try and defend her self. The man simply smiled at her, his hands also up but in a surrendering position._  
_"Hi, er, I was just wondering," The man began._  
_"If you want to sit with me the answer is no." Imogen cut in rudely. "You and your friend can move on."  
_ _"_ _That wasn't was I was going to say." The man laughed. "I was going to ask if you were Clive's sister?" Imogen lowered her hands slightly. "_  
_Clive?" She repeated. "... Why?"  
"_ _Oh, we go to uni with him, that's all, and you look like the spitting image of him, doesn't she, Sebastian?" The man nudged his friend. Sebastian nodded with a smile. "_  
_You could be twins." He said. Imogen narrowed her eyes at them.  
"_ _Yes, I'm his sister."_  
_"Imogen, right?" The man asked. "He talks about you in class sometimes, he sounds very proud of you. I hear you're quite the clever clog." Imogen blushed slightly. "_  
_Oh, he does, does he?" She tucked her hair behind her ear. "That's nice of him."_  
_"Now, here's another reason why we came over." The man crossed his arms. "What is a young girl like you doing out and about at midnight in a pub like this? It's not exactly safe, you know."  
_ _"I know." Imogen replied, shrugging. "But I know self defence."_  
_"So do other people here, I bet." The man smiled slightly at Imogen's put off look. "Look, I'm just saying, Clive wouldn't want you walking around a place like this at this time of night. Why are you here?" Imogen gave him a look of defiance._  
_"I don't even know your name." She said stoutly._  
_"Oh right, of course. Where are my manners?" He grinned, and held out a hand. "My name is Jim."_


	3. John Watson

Renee ran into Sherlock a few times after that. Sometimes by chance, and sometimes she was sure were set up by him in order for him to try and further deduce her and get her to 'spill her secrets'. She knew he knew she was hiding something. The only time he'd got a reaction out of Renee was when he invited her along on one of his cases, mentioning there would be a dead body. At the words 'dead body' she'd had to try and hide her trembling hands behind her back. Renee had declined as politely as possible. She also knew he'd been trying to sneak around her room whilst she'd been out, but this was one time where her past came in handy - she knew exactly how to keep people out of places she didn't want them to be in. She knew it was just making him even more curious, making him wonder how she knew how to hide everything so well, but she would risk everything to keep her secrets. A few weeks later and someone new walked into Renee's life, an ex-soldier who went by the name of John Watson.  
-  
"Oh-hoo!" Renee Renee lifted her head from the paper she was writing on to face her door where Mrs. Hudson's voice had come from. "Renee? Are you in there?"  
"Coming, Mrs. Hudson!" Renee called back, hurriedly shutting the large journal she was writing in and shoving it in a drawer on the desk, slamming it close. She grabbed her key and then opened the door to see Mrs. Hudson waiting for her outside with a smile. "Hello, Mrs. Hudson. What can I do for you today?" Renee asked cheerfully, leaning on the door frame in just the way that Mrs. Hudson couldn't see inside.  
"It's the day that Sherlock brings his new flatmate around to see upstairs, remember? They should be here any minute, I'd thought you'd like to meet him."  
"Oh, of course!" Renee closed the door behind her, locking it.  
"I hope you don't mind there being people moving in above you, so soon after you moved in - and someone loud like Sherlock as well." Mrs. Hudson said anxiously. Renee noticed she always spoke in a worried tone of voice when talking about Renee's living situation; she probably thought that Renee was going to leave at any given time. Not just yet, Renee thought, not just yet.  
"Oh, it's fine Mrs. Hudson," Renee nudged her shoulder gently. "I like it here. I'm not leaving any time soon." Mrs. Hudson beamed and tucked her arm into Renee's.  
"Good. I need another gal to keep me company." She said firmly.  
"Likewise." Renee grinned. It had only been a few weeks but inwardly she really did not look forward to the day when she had to leave. "Let's just hope his flatmate is sane." As if on cue, there was a knock on the door. Mrs. Hudson untucked her arm from Renee's to rush to open the door, and as she did Renee caught sight of Sherlock. He caught her eye and sent her a small smirk to which she responded to by looking away quickly.  
"Sherlock! Hello." Mrs. Hudson greeted the man, pulling him in for a brief hug.  
"Mrs. Hudson, Doctor John Watson." Sherlock stepped aside to introduce the new man, and Renee craned her neck to get a good view of him. He was taller than her, but still short, and held a walking stick in his right hand. Her eyes raked over the rest of him for a second and she smiled. He'd be running around without that thing in no time.  
"Hello," Mrs. Hudson greeted him.  
"How do?" He said politely before Sherlock spoke up again,  
"And that's Renee Waters back there, our neighbour." Renee walked up, holding out a hand for John to shake. He seemed to do a double take when he saw her, his smile growing.  
"Uh, hi," He said. "Doctor John Watson."  
"Pleasure to meet you Doctor Watson." She grinned, shaking his hand, noting how his grip was still hard by the time she was pulling her hand away.  
"You live just down here then?" He asked, pointing with his stick around the corner.  
"Yep," Renee nodded. "221C."  
"And thank god she does too," Mrs. Hudson said. "It was horrible before she came along - all moldy and damp. I don't know how she's sorted it all out."  
"Yes, yes, she is rather wonderful." Sherlock drawled sarcastically, sending Renee a very fake smile. "Shall we, Doctor?" John started as if he'd forgotten Sherlock was there and gave Renee one last friendly nod before moving up the stairs after Sherlock.  
"Feel free to come knock on my door any time, Doctor Watson." Renee called up after them. John turned around briefly to send her a grin.  
"I think I'll take you up on that offer. And call me John!" He called back before continuing on up the stairs. Renee turned to Mrs. Hudson with a smile.  
"I like him. I think he's quite sane." She said conversationally. Mrs. Hudson laughed.  
"Let's hope so, dear." She replied. Renee retreated back to her apartment shortly after, sighing as she closed the door behind her.  
"Those two are going to get along perfectly well," She mumbled to her self as she pulled the journal she'd been writing in out of the drawer it had been thrown in a few moments ago. "I just hope they don't drag me into anything too ridiculous." She re opened the journal and let her self fall onto the chair with a loud breath out, stroking the pages of the journal softly and flipping back a few pages. Dates littered the paper, and underneath each date was at least a paragraph half the size of the paper in her neat scrawl containing details. Details about her past. Absentmindedly Renee flipped back further, until she was nearly at the very beginning, until a certain date caught her eye. She smiled sadly at the sight of it, running her fingers over the pen mark and the paragraph she'd written underneath it. She remembered those days, back when she was younger. She felt so old now.  
-  
_"It's all over the news!" Imogen grinned, bouncing up and down. "It's all over the news that I've been murdered!" The male beside her rolled his eyes, but he was smiling._  
_"That isn't something people are usually happy about." He commented._  
_"Probably because most of the time when that happens people actually have been murdered, and then they can't feel anything at all." Imogen replied with a cheeky grin. "But I'm alive! And they all think I'm dead."_  
_"Someone's having fun." Another man entered the room, grinning just as much as Imogen. "Doesn't it make you feel alive, being dead?"_  
_"Jim!" Imogen cried, and leaped forwards into his arms for a hug. "That was brilliant! I don't know how to thank you."_  
_"For fake killing you?" The other man scoffed._  
_"Precisely," Imogen nodded, stepping away from Jim. "Now everyone thinks I'm dead, I can do the fun stuff right? Helping you guys out?"_  
_"It'll be heaps of fun." Jim nodded enthusiastically._  
_"Hacking into governments, stealing from banks, toying with peoples very lives." Sebastian shrugged. "Yeah, fun."_  
_"Very." Imogen said stoutly. "It was fun enough helping you out under my parents noses, but now I get to help you out whenever I want!"_  
_"See, Sebastian? Don't try and worry the little lady, she's all prepared." Jim patted Sebastian's shoulder, sending him a knowing look._  
_"I'm set and ready to go." Imogen fake saluted them._  
_"Right then." Jim clapped his hands together. "Have you picked out a new name?"_  
_"Kayla." Imogen said immediately. "I'm going to be called Kayla now."_  
_"Just Kayla?" Jim asked._  
_"I don't need a last name do I?"_  
_"I suppose not. Kayla it is."_  
-  
Renee was brought out of her thoughts by a rapping on the door. She stood with a quiet groan and stuffed the journal back in the door before grabbing her house keys and phone, moving to the door. She opened it, immediately leaning against the door frame in her typical position so that no one could see inside.  
"Hello," Said Sherlock, peaking over her shoulder, and she immediately stepped out of the door completely, shutting it behind her. "I was wondering if you wanted to come along-"  
"To a case?" Renee guessed with a tight smile. "I thought I said I wasn't interested in those."  
"Yes, you do seem to have something against dead bodies." Sherlock hummed.  
"Most people do." Renee replied sharply.  
"Yes, but you're not most people, are you?" Sherlock said, and Renee raised an eyebrow.  
"And what do you mean by that?"  
"I'm not sure yet, but I'll figure you out. I figure everyone out." Sherlock boasted. "Now, are you coming or not?"  
"Am I even allowed to?"  
"Yes, because I said so." Sherlock swung his scarf around his neck and sent her a grin. "And you need to spend more time outside."  
"Who said so?"  
"I did. You've been cooped up in here for hours on end day after day, only going out when necessary. You denied going out to the pub with your work friends because you said you were going out with friends from your flat, right?"  
"Right." Renee answered, not bothering to ask how he knew that.  
"So go out with your friends from your flat then." She sighed.  
"There will be dead bodies, won't there?"  
"No. A single dead body, yes. But several? No." Sherlock grinned. "Come on. I can see it in your eyes. You're curious."  
"What help will I be for you there?"  
"You're smarter than you let on. Besides, the more time I spend with you the more likely I am to figure you out. So. Are you in?" Renee hesitated. John walked around the corner.  
"Oh, are you inviting Renee as well?" He asked, sending her a friendly smile. "Do say you're coming Renee, I don't know if I can handle him on my own." He joked.  
"Fine." Renee agreed reluctantly, and Sherlock positively beamed at her.  
"That's it!" He turned, his coat flying up dramatically behind him. "Come on, Dr. Watson, Miss. Waters, we've got a case to solve."  
"What, all of you?" Mrs. Hudson called as she came out of her apartment, sending Renee a look of surprise. "But I thought you didn't -"  
"Yes, all of us!" Sherlock interrupted before Mrs. Hudson could change Renee's mind. He could see she was already having an inner battle about not going - her hands were beginning to shake again.  
"Let me get my coat." Renee said in a weak voice, and went to fetch it. She came back with it on half a minute later, but her hands were trembling more than ever. John sent her a look, but she ignored it.  
"Look at you, all happy. It's not decent." Mrs. Hudson grinned as Sherlock kissed her cheek in joy.  
"Who cares about decent? The game, Mrs. Hudson, is on!" He exclaimed, and bounced out of the doorway with John and Renee following after him. "Taxi!" The three of them bundled into the car, Sherlock going in first and then Renee with John following after her, trying his best not to comment on the fact that Renee had just sat on her hands to try and stop them from trembling. He would guess she was scared.  
"Okay." Sherlock said after a while. "You've got questions."  
"Yeah, where are we going?" John asked, leaning forward so Sherlock could see him past Renee.  
"Crime scene. Next?"  
"Who are you? What do you do?" John continued, and suddenly Renee spoke up. Her voice was different - there was a slight shake to it.  
"Consulting detective." She said, and Sherlock shot her a look of surprise. "Police don't go to private detectives. When the police get out of their depth, they go to Sherlock." John looked at Renee in confusion.  
"How do you know that?" He asked.  
"Oh!" Renee looked at him as if she'd only just realised she'd been speaking. "Um, I just assumed really. Am I right, Sherlock?"  
"Spot on." Sherlock gave her a look of approval.  
"But... the police don't consult amateurs." John stated, and Sherlock sent him an indifferent look.  
"When I met you for the first time yesterday, I said, “Afghanistan or Iraq?” You looked surprised."  
"Yes, how did you know?" John said.  
"I didn’t know, I saw. Your haircut, the way you hold yourself, says military. But your conversation as you entered the room said trained at Bart’s, so Army doctor – obvious. Your face is tanned but no tan above the wrists. You’ve been abroad, but not sunbathing. Your limp’s really bad when you walk but you don’t ask for a chair when you stand, like you’ve forgotten about it, so it’s at least partly psychosomatic. That says the original circumstances of the injury were traumatic. Wounded in action, then. Wounded in action, suntan – Afghanistan or Iraq." He finished with a clicking sound on the 'q', sending Renee a side look to see how she had reacted to what he'd sad. She was staring straight forwards with a blank look, her breathing becoming slightly uneven. John paused.  
"You said I had a therapist."  
"You’ve got a psychosomatic limp – of course you’ve got a therapist. Then there’s your brother." Sherlock held his hand out for John's phone across Renee and she jumped at the sight of an arm appearing in front of her as John handed over the phone slowly. "Your phone. It’s expensive, e-mail enabled, MP3 player, but you’re looking for a flatshare – you wouldn’t waste money on this. It’s a gift, then. Scratches. Not one, many over time. It’s been in the same pocket as keys and coins. The man sitting next to me wouldn’t treat his one luxury item like this, so it’s had a previous owner. Next bit’s easy. You know it already."  
"The engraving." John confirmed. Sherlock took a deep breath to carry on and Renee tried her best to focus in on the conversation to try and distract her self, but parts of her memory were coming rushing back and she had to shake her head lightly to get rid of them.  
"Harry Watson: clearly a family member who’s given you his old phone. Not your father, this is a young man’s gadget. Could be a cousin, but you’re a war hero who can’t find a place to live. Unlikely you’ve got an extended family, certainly not one you’re close to, so brother it is. Now, Clara. Who’s Clara? Three kisses says it’s a romantic attachment. The expense of the phone says wife, not girlfriend. She must have given it to him recently – this model’s only six months old. Marriage in trouble then – six months on he’s just given it away. If she’d left him, he would have kept it. People do – sentiment. But no, he wanted rid of it. He left her. He gave the phone to you: that says he wants you to stay in touch. You’re looking for cheap accommodation, but you’re not going to your brother for help: that says you’ve got problems with him. Maybe you liked his wife; maybe you don’t like his drinking. " The more Sherlock spoke the more Renee focused in on his voice as a distraction, her eyes darting across the phone as quickly as Sherlock's were.  
"How can you know about the drinking?" John asked incredulously, and Renee spoke up before Sherlock could.  
"Power connection." She mumbled.  
"What?" John asked, turning to give her a look.  
"Uh, um," She stuttered for a second, once again looking like she had no idea she'd just spoken. "Sorry, I interrupted."  
"No, go on." Sherlock said, leaning back into his seat and handing her John's phone. "What about the power connection?" Renee swallowed, looking up at Sherlock. He sent her a tiny smile.  
"Tiny little... tiny little scuffs around the edge of it. Every night Harry goes to plug it into charge but his hand is shaking. You don't usually see that on a sober man's phone." She handed John's phone back to him meekly, Sherlock watching her intently as she did so. "And, um, John,"  
"Yes?" He asked, staring at the power connection on his phone in amazement.  
"Is Harry a boy or a girl?" Sherlock made a face at Renee's word.  
"How many girls do you know called Harry?" He said.  
"One," Renee answered. "I met her back in high school. It was short for-"  
"Harriet." John cut in, tucking his phone back into his pocket. Sherlock's face twisted into one of annoyance.  
"Harry! Short for Harriet! Harry is your sister!" Sherlock slammed his fist into the door next to him. "There's always something!"  
"Either way, John, you were right,"  
"I was right? About what?"  
"The police don't consult amateurs." Renee shot Sherlock an impressed look and he paused to look at her in confusion.  
"That..." John breathed. "Was amazing." Pause.  
"Do you think so?"  
"Of course it was! That was extraordinary; that was quite extraordinary."  
"That's not what people normally say."  
"What do people normally say?"  
"'Piss off'" Sherlock grinned at John, who grinned back in amusement. Sherlock stayed silent for a while longer before looking down at Renee. Her eyes were slightly glazed over and she was staring down at her lap. He studied her for a while. "Renee." He said, and she snapped her head up to look at him. "Are you scared?" She looked like she was thinking of what to say for a while, and then she answered truthfully.  
"Not at all." She said in a soft voice.  
-  
The taxi arrived at Brixton before the three knew it, and John clambered out of the taxi, turning to grab his walking stick. As he did he noticed Renee moving her hands from underneath her to get out, and her hands were shaking an enormous amount.  
"Are you OK?" He asked, noticing how pale she was as she stepped out of the car.  
"Oh, don't worry about me." She grinned, stuffing her hands in her coat pocket to hide them.  
"Are you sure? You can always go home, don't let Sherlock drag you into-"  
"Let's get going." Sherlock called as the teaxi drove away, and Renee hurried after him, ignoring John's worried look.  
"Uh, Sherlock, what exactly are Renee and I doing here?" John asked, but Sherlock ignored him as they reached the police tape. A woman stood there, her eyes rolled when she noticed Sherlock approaching.  
"Hello, freak." She greeted him coldly. Renee gave her one look and then clenched her hands in her pocket to hide the shaking more, not wanting to meet the woman's eyes.  
"I'm here to see Detective Inspector Lestrade." Sherlock said bluntly.  
"Why?"  
"I was invited."  
"Why?"  
"I think he wants me to take a look." Sherlock bit back sarcastically.  
"Well you know what I think, don't you?" The woman said.  
"Always, Sally," Sherlock replied, ducking under the police tape. He took a deep breath in through his nose. "I even know you didn't make it home last night,"  
"I don't-" She paused as John and Renee moved to enter the scene as well. "Er, who are they?"  
"Colleagues of mine. Doctor Watson and Miss. Waters." He turned to John and Renee. "John, Renee, Sergeant Sally Donovan. Old... friend."  
"Colleagues? How did you get colleagues?" Sally laughed. "What, did he follow you guys home?"  
"Look, would it be better if we just waited and-" John began, taking Renee's arm in his hand. It was worrying him that her arms were beginning to shake as well.  
"No." Sherlock said, shooting Renee a quick glance. She was staring at her feet quietly, but obediently entered under the police tape as Sherlock lifted it up for her and John. Sally began to walk them over to the entrance of the building, lifting a radio to her mouth.  
"Freaks here." She spoke into it. "Bringing him in." Sherlock swivelled as he walked, taking in the building and the area as a man walked out of the building.  
"Ah, Anderson." Sherlock began as he noticed the man. "Here we are again."  
"It's a crime scene, I don't want it contaminated. Are we clear on that?" Anderson said bitterly. Sherlock ignored him for a moment and took another deep breath in through his nose.  
"Quite clear. And-" He made to continue, and then noticed that Renee had passed him and gone straight into the building as quickly as she could. As she had passed him her eyes had been practically glowing, her cheeks rosy. He blinked in surprise, and then turned to give John a look. John shrugged, watching Renee disappear into the building in confusion.  
"Who was that?" Anderson asked. "She can't just walk in there!"  
"... Excuse me." Sherlock said, and jogged after Renee. He finds her in the middle of the room looking around her self with large eyes, her hands still stuffed in her pockets. "Getting a bit ahead of your self, are you, Miss. Waters?"  
"Where's the body?" She asked quickly, and Sherlock paused, stuttering slightly. Renee realised what she'd said and coughed awkwardly. "I mean... Where are we going?"  
"Right," Sherlock said, frowning at her as John caught up. "In here." He led them both into a room filled with bustling people, one man standing in the middle putting on a coverall. "You two need to put on one of those." He said, pointing towards the coveralls. Renee grabbed one and tossed it to John before grabbing her own. John stared at her shaking hands as she began to put the coverall on. They were shaking more than ever, but her eyes were concentrated and wide as she shoved her legs into the coveralls.  
"Who are they?" The man next to her asked.  
"They're with me." Sherlock replied, taking his gloves off.  
"But who are they?"  
"I said, they're with me." Sherlock repeated, picking up a pair of latex gloves.  
"Aren't you putting one of these on?" John asked, pointing at the coverall in his hands. Sherlock shot him a stern look and John looked away, shaking his head as if wondering why he even asked.  
"So, where are we?" He directed this question to the man, who Renee guessed must be Lestrade, but she couldn't really think completely straight. Her head was buzzing - and it wasn't because she was frightened.  
"Upstairs." Lestrade answered, shooting Renee a cautious look as she clutched her hands behind her back to hide the tremors. He lead the three up a circular staircase. "I can give you two minutes." He told Sherlock as the man put on latex gloves.  
"May need longer." He glanced at Renee. "Maybe not."  
"Her name’s Jennifer Wilson according to her credit cards. We’re running them now for contact details. Hasn’t been here long. Some kids found her." They stopped outside a room, and Renee stiffened her body to try and stop the shaking. There's a dead body in there, she thought to her self, there's a dead body right behind this door. Her heart began to beat faster. Lestrade lead them into the room. It was empty of furniture apart from a rocking horse alone in the far corner. Emergency portable lighting had been set up, scaffolding poles held up part of the ceiling near where a few large holes had been knocked through one of the walls. But Renee was ignoring all of this, her eyes honing in on one thing only. A body lay in the middle of the room. A woman, lying face down with her hands flat on either side of her head. John's expression twisted into one of sadness at the sight. Lestrade looked indifferent and Sherlock looked like he's concentrating hard as he stepped towards it, eyes narrowed. Silence. Renee began to find it hard to keep her breathing under control.  
"Shut up." Sherlock said suddenly.  
"I didn't say anything!" Lestrade said in surprise.  
"You were thinking. It's annoying." He said, and John shared a look with Lestrade. John turned to look at Renee and she was stood with her back pressed up to the wall, hands still behind her, and her eyes wide and unblinking as she stared unnervingly at the dead body. Poor thing, John thought, probably never seen one before. He tapped her on the arm, but she didn't react. He moved to tap her again, but Lestrade spoke up.  
"Got anything?" He asked as Sherlock backed away from the body. Renee kept her own eyes firmly on the body. Her mind was moving quicker than it had in many years, taking in everything it could about the body - how the woman died, what she had done the hours before her death, her life before that. Anderson's voice rung out from the doorway.  
"She’s German. ‘Rache’: it’s German for ‘revenge’. She could be trying to tell us something-"  
"Yes, thank you for your input." Sherlock said sarcastically, and slammed the door in Anderson's face.  
"So she's German?" Lestrade asked.  
"Of course she’s not. She’s from out of town, though. Intended to stay in London for one night before returning home to Cardiff. So far, so obvious."  
"I'm sorry, obvious?" John let out a laugh of disbelief.  
"What about the message though?" Lestrade insisited. Sherlock ignored him.  
"Doctor Watson, Renee," Renee snapped out of her trance, her eyes flickered towards Sherlock. "What do you two think?"  
"About what?"  
"The body."  
"Wait, no, we've got a whole team out there of-" Lestrade began, but Sherlock sent him a glare.  
"None of them will work with me."  
"I'm breaking every rule bring you in here-"  
"Because you need me." There was a pause.  
"Yes, I do." Lestrade admitted, sighing. "God, help me." He turned to Renee and John, nodding. "Go ahead." Renee whizzed past John and was kneeling on the ground by the body in seconds, leaning over it to get a better look. Lestrade gave Sherlock a look that seemed to ask 'who is that?' and he smirked in return. "Doesn't say much, does she?" He said dryly. As if to prove him wrong Renee began muttering something just loud enough to them to overhear. "Late thirties, professional... Media... Intended to stay in London for one night... suitcase... Married for... ten years... affairs..." Sherlock's eyebrows quirked up.  
"What was that?" John said. His words seemed to jolt Renee back to reality. Her eyes widened when she realised just how close to the body she was and she sat up straight, her hands shaking violently.  
"Um..." She struggled the get the words out. Sherlock moved to step in front of her swiftly, begininng to talk to distract the other two of her state.  
"Victim is in her late thirties. Professional person, going by her clothes; I’m guessing something in the media, going by the frankly alarming shade of pink. Travelled from Cardiff today, intending to stay in London for one night. It’s obvious from the size of her suitcase."  
"Suitcase?" John repeated, looking around for a suitcase. From behind Sherlock, Renee stood up. shakily, and made for the exit without a word.  
"Hey - wait, you can't just wander off-" Lestrade began.  
"Ignore her, she's going home." Sherlock waved his hand at Lestade.  
"Is she alright?" John said, watching Renee leave the room in a hurry, her whole body trembling. Sherlock shrugged.  
"It's the thrill." He said in a soft voice.  
"Thrill?"  
"Yes, didn't you see her shaking?"  
"I thought she was scared." Lestrade said.  
"No, no. Not frightened." Sherlock grinned. "Excited."  
-  
Renee shoved her coat on and left the building in a blur, speed walking for the police tape.  
"Leaving alone, are you?" Sally called to Renee, moving to walk over to her, but Renee blanked her and kept walking, ducking under the police tape and basically running for the main road. Sally watched her go in confusion. When she reached the main road Renee slowed down, breathing heavily, her hands once again stuffed in her pockets, still shaking. She knew the way back from Brixton and whilst she wasn't planning on walking the whole way home she certainly didn't want to get in a taxi right now, she knew she had to calm down. Which wasn't easy when there were a million flashbacks firing through her mind at that moment in time, all of dead bodies. Some at others hands. Some at her own. Don't think about that, she thought, distract your self. You've done it before. Whilst she was lost in this trance of distracting her self she hardly noticed a black car pull up on the pavement next to her. The door opened and a well dressed woman leaned out of the door, calling her name. Renee jumped and turned to look at the woman, her eyes large.  
"Who are you?" She asked in a panicked voice. The woman's blue eyes softened,  
"I've been told to come and get you." The woman said in a calm voice. "There's someone who wants to see you." Renee's whole body froze. It couldn't be, she thought. He shouldn't have any clue where she was, none at all, unless - "Miss. Waters?" Renee shook her head.  
"Who is it? Who are you taking me to?" Renee asked in a low voice, backing away.  
"I can't tell you that-"  
"You have to! I won't go with you unless you tell me-"  
"Miss. Waters," The woman said, standing up out of the car, her voice turning dangerously low. "I'm sorry, but you have to."  
"Or what?" Renee spat. "Try your best," The woman sighed and straightened her blazer.  
"If you wish me to, I will." The woman took one step towards Renee, raising one hand, and Renee immediately lashed out in a fit of panics, her hand grabbing the woman's wrist and twisting it. "Ow!" The woman explained, gaining looks from the few passerbys on the street. Recognising that the woman wasn't going to retaliate Renee released her wrist and stepped back, head rushing. No, he wouldn't send someone like this to get her if he knew where she was. He wouldn't do it like this. This was someone else.  
"I-I'm..." Renee stuttered, as the woman rubbed her wrist.  
"I wasn't going to hurt you," The woman snapped. "I was reaching for my business card." Renee shook her head,  
"I don't want to see it," She said.  
"What?" The woman said. "Look, I was told I had to get you, and I'm getting you. Please, just get in the car. I won't come near you again if you do."  
"Listen, I've just seen a dead body, I'm on the verge of a break down, I don't want-"  
"Mycroft Holmes." The woman said finally. "You said you would get in the car if I told you who I was taking you to see, so get in the car now." The woman, still cradling her wrist, gave Renee an exasperated look. "Please." Renee swallowed. She knew that name for sure.  
"Why does Mycroft Holmes want to see me?" She asked curiously. The woman glared harder. Renee sighed, and clambered into the car not so gracefully, huddling into the corner of it as she sat by the window. The woman got in on the opposite side and shut the door with her left hand, her right one resting on her knee. Renee sent it a regretful look. "It's going to swell." Renee said gently, and the woman raised an eyebrow at her. "You should probably not use it for a day."  
"... Thanks." The woman bit back sarcastically. Renee winced at the tone of voice and turned to rest her head on the window instead. She'd stopped shaking without realising.  
-  
The car pulled into an almost empty warehouse and the woman gestured for Renee to get out. She did so obediently, and wrapped her coat tighter around her shoulders as she noticed a man in the middle of the room wearing a suit and leaning casually against an umbrella. Recognising him as Mycroft she walked towards him, hugging her self.  
"Miss. Waters." He sent a tight lipped smile as she neared him. Right Renee, she told her self in her head, act like you don't know he's one of the most powerful people in all of Britain.  
"Are you Sherlock's brother?" Renee asked innocently, stopping a while away from him.  
"How did you know that?" Mycroft asked, looking vaguely surprised.  
"I refused to get in the car unless they told me who I was going to see. They said Mycroft Holmes."  
"They certainly weren't supposed to do that."  
"Mmm. Well, I did sprain their wrist." Renee said awkwardly. "But anyway, what is this all about?"  
"This?" Mycroft asked as if oblivious to the situation.  
"Yes." Renee gestured to the empty warehouse. "This. Bit dramatic."  
"So is spraining someone's wrist."  
"Not when they demand you get in a car to go meet a stranger." Renee straigthened her back, meeting Mycroft's gaze. "Now, are you going to make your proposal or not?"  
"Excuse me?" Mycroft raised his eyebrows.  
"You want to me to do something for you, yes? Something to do with Sherlock?"  
"Hm. He mentioned you were smart." Mycroft said approvingly. "Not much of a goldfish, are you?"  
"Whatever you're going to say next, no."  
"I haven't named a price yet."  
"For spying on someone? No. I don't care who it is." Renee turned to walk away back to the car. "I assume they're driving me back to Baker Street?"  
"Well that went faster than expected." Mycroft said humorlessly from behind her.  
"Good, I'm tired." Renee called back over her shoulder as she reached the car once more.  
"You've got a very good brain, Miss. Waters!" Mycroft called before she got into the car. "What exactly are you going to do with it? I hope you're putting it to good use." Renee froze at his choice of words, and then slid into the car without answering.  
-  
When she arrived back at Baker Street she immediately locked her self into her room, grabbed her phone, stuck headphones in, and turned the volume all the way up. The loud music pounded on the inside of her head as she lay on her bed, staring at the ceiling where little stars were stuck that would glow in the dark. She should never have gone along on that case. What she knew would happen had happened - she'd been too excited, got too carried away, and it made her sick. Who got excited by murder? Not normal people. And that's what she was after, that's what she was craving. To be normal.  
"I hate my brain." Renee mumbled, turned on her side and staring out across her bedroom with a blank look in her eyes,  
-  
_"Why am I shaking so much?" Kayla asked, staring at her hands in front of her as they tremor-ed._  
_"Well, you did just see your first ever dead body up close." Sebastian said from the doorway. "And it wasn't exactly a pretty sight, it had all maggots and-"_  
_"Yeah, alright Sebastian." Jim interrupted in an annoyed voice, shooting Sebastian a look that was telling him to shut up. Sebastian held his hands up in a surrender position and closed his mouth. "Why do you think you're shaking Kayla?" Jim asked softly as she turned back around to face Kayla. She looked up at the ceiling above her. it was covered in glowing stick on stars. "Were you scared?"_  
_"No." Kayla said after a while of thought. "I was excited." She looked back down at Jim expecting to find him staring at her in concern. "Is that normal? I shouldn't be excited at seeing a dead body should I?" He was grinning._  
_"You shouldn't have been excited at faking your death, or joining a team of criminals, but here you are." Sebastian quipped. Jim took Kayla's quivering hands in his own._  
_"I think it's fine you were excited." Jim said with an innocent smile._  
_"You do?" Kayla tilted her head._  
_"In fact," Jim said. "I think it's absolutely perfect."_  
-  
When Renee next woke up her phone had died and all she could hear was muffled noise. Her eyes opened groggily and she stretched with a yawn.  
"What is that?" She mumbled, taking her headphones out, and was met with the sound of rapid knocking on her door. "Oh!" She leaped up and ran for the door, opening it. "Sorry, I was sleeping!" She said without seeing who it was first. "Uh..." Sherlock and John stood there with large smiles on their faces, obviously trying not to burst into giggles. "Hi?"  
"Hi." John said, and then they both burst into laughter. Renee stared at them in confusion.  
"Where have you two been?"  
"He's been taking pills and I've been shooting people." John grinned. "D'ya mind if we come in for some tea or something? We can explain what happened in here." Renee looked vaguely uncomfortable for a moment.  
"If you promise not to go snooping around, Sherlock." She said, pointing a finger at him accusingly.  
"I would never." He insisted, holding his hands in the air. Renee sent him a wary look and then stepped back to let them into the flat.  
"Wow! You have a nice place here, Renee," John complimented her as they stepped in, Sherlock's eyes immediately darting every which way to pick up all the details they could. "It's much tidier than upstairs, that's for sure,"  
"Yes. Very... cute." Sherlock agreed in a slightly patronising manner as he looked at all the fairy lights hanging everywhere.  
"I'll go make that tea. John, keep an eye on Sherlock will you?"  
-  
The three sat around the kitchen table as Sherlock and John retold the story.  
"There were police, in Baker Street? Doing a drugs bust? And I slept through all of it?" Renee asked in amazement.  
"Must have been tired." Sherlock shrugged. "Worn out from all that... excitement."  
"Excitement?" Renee repeated. "What was exciting about seeing a dead body?" John shared a look with Sherlock.  
"Renee." John started, his voice growing more serious. "Why were you shaking so much at the crime scene? Sherlock said you were excited." Renee didn't answer, just stared down at her cup of tea. "Are you like Sherlock, then? Do you get high off that sort of thing?"  
"I don't get high off of it-"  
"Oh sh, Sherlock. And all those things you were muttering under your breath from before, those were deductions, weren't they? You've got a brain like Sherlock's, haven't you?" John insisted.  
"Well," Renee smiled guiltily as Sherlock made an offended noise. "Maybe not as good as Sherlock's, but perhaps a bit like it."  
"What are the chances?" John laughed, "Two geniuses moving in to Baker Street only weeks apart. Makes me feel lonely."  
"Don't worry, John, you have Mrs. Hudson." Sherlock said jokingly.  
"Alright, you take her out to your next case and I'll stay behind and learn how to become the perfect landlady, shall I?" John quipped, and the three of them burst into chuckles. "Seriously, though, Renee," John carried on once the laughter died down. "Are you going to do what Sherlock does?"  
"I don't know if I could." Renee admitted. "I don't think I should."  
"Why not?" Sherlock asked eagerly. "I could make you better. Plus, I still have to figure you out. You're still hiding something, something bigger,"  
"I have a job." Renee said. "At the bookstore."  
"Quit it. You're from a rich family. You have enough money to last a life time."  
"You do?!" John spluttered on his tea. "Why on Earth are you living at Baker Street if you have all that money?"  
"Why, indeed." Sherlock smirked at Renee, who looked away.  
"I like the bookstore job." Renee defended her self. "I don't get into life threatening situations every day."  
"Which is exactly why you actually don't like it, do you?" Sherlock raised an eyebrow. Renee fell silent.  
"I want a peaceful life." She said quietly. "A quiet one. I had a loud life once, a long time ago, and I haven't gone back since." She realised she'd said too much and began to laugh it off. "Forget what I said, I'm just..."  
"Come along on the next case." Sherlock said. "See what happens. I could use a mind like yours."  
"Thanks." John muttered.  
"... OK." Renee agreed, sighing. "Just one more case."  
-  
_There was blood on her face, blood in her hair, on her hands, staining her clothes. The knife had fallen to the floor long ago, landing next to the body at her knees. Her heart was pounding so hard she could hear it in her ears and it felt like it was trying to beat its way out of her chest. Her head wasn't working properly, everything was fuzzy and wrong. She could feel somewhere far away from her that hands were pulling her away from the body, the body that was all her eyes could see. A mess of red._  
_"Kayla? Kayla?" Her name sounded distorted and strange, and when Sebastian cupped her face in his hands and shook it it still did nothing to awaken her from her trance. "Kayla?"_  
_"What's wrong with her?"_  
_"I think she's going into shock."_  
_"Kayla, it's me, it's Jim, can you hear me?" Slowly she lifted her hand in front of her face. There seemed to be five of her hands all at once, all stained a dark red colour, and all of them shaking uncontrollably. Does that mean I'm excited? She wondered. Her head hurt, Everything was going dark. "Kayla? Kayla?"_  
_"Jim," She began slipping into the darkness. "I think I just killed a man."_


	4. Downfall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A tiny bit of a filler before The Blind Banker, but it provides more insight into Renee's past! Hope you enjoy x

The rain fell heavy on Renee's head as she strolled home from work, feeling happier than usual. She was feeling good; she'd finally agreed to go out with Cassidy and Jerry, much to their delight, and they'd all scheduled a trip to one of the local pubs that night. Renee knew it wasn't good to make too many friends when one was constantly running and jumping from country to country, and usually it was easy for her to not to, but she just felt strangely at home in London. She had Cassidy, Jerry, Mrs. Hudson, John and Sherlock, although her relationship with the last two was more on the strange side. How Sherlock had convinced her to go on another case was beyond her, but Renee found her self slightly excited by it. Getting back into a life of crime was dangerous, but now she was on the opposing side. She wouldn't be the one making the mystery, she'd be the one solving it. Life was going OK, she thought, as she fished out her key from her pocket, unaware of the eyes watching her from afar as she stepped into Baker Street.  
"Renee!" A voice called as soon as she stepped through the doorway, startling her. Looking up the stairs she saw John leaning out the door of his shared apartment, smiling at her. "I was wondering when you'd get home from work."  
"John," She smiled in return. "Is there something you want?"  
"Yeah, I was wondering if you wanted to pop up here for some tea? Mrs. Hudson brought biscuits." John said, pointing back over his shoulder,  
"Sherlock wouldn't mind the extra company?" Renee asked teasingly.  
"He probably won't even notice you, I don't think he's even aware what day or time it is at the moment." John shrugged.  
"Mind palace?"  
"Mind palace."  
"Gimme a sec, I'll just get changed first. It's really pouring it down out there!" Renee rushed off to her apartment to get changed, grinning all the way.  
-  
Once she'd changed into dry clothes and dried her wet hair, Renee bounded up the stairs to 221B where John greeted her warmly with some tea at the door.  
"Good to see you again." He joked as she walked in, spotting Sherlock on his chair was his knees to his chest and his hands under his chin in a praying position.  
"You too, Dr. Watson." Renee replied with a smile as she took a seat on the sofa. "What's he up to, then?" She asked, tilting her head towards Sherlock.  
"Who knows?" John bobbed his shoulders as he sat down in his own chair. "Been like that since midnight, I think."  
"What happened at midnight?"  
"Actually, we were talking about you." John confessed.  
"Me?"  
"Yeah, Sherlock kept going on about how to crack your case and then just slipped into the state he's in now."  
"My case?" Renee sipped at her tea, frowning. "What case?"  
"The case of who you are. Apparently you have a very mysterious past, and Sherlock is trying to solve it." John made a face. "You better watch out."  
"Hahaha!" Renee laughed in an obviously exaggerated fashion. "No one shall ever learn my secrets! Not even the great Sherlock Holmes!"  
"Hey, watch this," John snorted in amusement and then turned to Sherlock. "Sherlock," Sherlock made a small humming noise, not blinking. "Renee just told me about her past, she's actually just a ninja in disguise."  
"Yes." Sherlock said, and John sent Renee a look that made her burst out laughing.  
"I've come to assassinate you." She said.  
"Yes." Sherlock said once again, obviously not listening to a word they were saying.  
"As a punishment for your exceedingly big ego." John added.  
"Yes."  
"Hey, Sherlock?" Renee called.  
"Yes."  
"Are you in love with John?"  
"Yes."  
"I knew it!" Mrs. Hudson's voice rung out, and John turned with a pale face to see the old lady standing in the doorway with her hands clasped together and a look of joy. "So you two are-"  
"No! No, no, no, we are not - we are definitely not - Mrs. Hudson, I am not gay!" John said in a panic. "We were just playing around."  
"I'll have to tell my friend Marie about this, I was right!" Mrs. Hudson hurried off back down the stairs with John standing to run to the doorway and yell after Mrs. Hudson that he was most definitely not gay.  
"You," He said after Mrs. Hudson had disappeared, turning to face Renee who was trying to hide her laughter. "Are in trouble."  
"I didn't know she was there!" Renee said, giggling. "Good timing on her part."  
"Whatever," John sighed, falling back down into his chair. "Oh, there's something we forgot to tell you about the story before, the taxi driver one."  
"Oh, yeah, what's that?"  
"He told Sherlock a name, just before he died," John said. "Mo-"  
"Let's go out!" Sherlock exclaimed suddenly and loudly, drowning out the sound of John's voice. Renee stared at him in surprise as he leaped from his chair, rushing to grab his coat.  
"Go out?" John asked incredulously. "It's raining buckets out there!"  
"I know, splendid weather."  
"Did you even hear what I just said?"  
"Miss. Waters, get your coat," Sherlock demanded. "We're going to get lunch."  
"... You know it's gone past lunch time, right?" Renee asked.  
"OK, dinner." Sherlock said without missing a beat. "Come on John, hurry up."  
"Actually, I'm going out with my friends from work for dinner. We're going to the pub-" Renee started.  
"Great, I'm looking forward to meeting them."  
"We can't just go along with her like that." John called after Sherlock as the man put his scarf on.  
"I'm not even meeting them for another hour." Renee shared another look with John. "I'll text them, ask them if it's OK to bring along some friends."  
"Are you sure you don't mind?" John asked. "I feel like we're intruding."  
"Sherlock's made up his mind." Renee grinned. "No stopping him now."  
-  
"Are you going to tell me why we're crashing Renee's meeting with her friends?" John asked in a low voice an hour later as he followed Sherlock along the streets of London. Renee walked a bit ahead of them, on the phone to one of her work friends.  
"We need to spend as much time as possible with Renee," Sherlock replied in a whisper. "Get her to feel comfortable with us. Then she'll tell us everything."  
"Jesus, Sherlock, or maybe we could just actually be her friends?"  
"Same thing." Sherlock shrugged, and then jogged forward to catch up to Renee as she ended her phone call. "So they don't mind us coming along?"  
"Not at all." Renee smiled. "Cassidy and Jerry are pretty relaxed people. The more the merrier, they say."  
"And you don't mind us coming along?"Sherlock asked, looking down at Renee.  
"Well, I don't mind John coming along," She said in a slightly cold voice. "Because he actually wants to be my friend. He doesn't just want to know my whole past," Sherlock sniffed and looked away as John caught up, walking on the other side of Renee. "Here we are!" She said cheerfully as they arrived at the pub and stepped inside. "And there they are!" She pointed towards Cassidy and Jerry as she spotted them, and the three of them made their way over to the couple.  
"Renee!" Cassidy beamed, pulling Renee in for a hug. "And you must be Dr. Watson, right? And Sherlock?" She said as she stopped hugging a dazed Renee.  
"Just call me John." John smiled, shaking Jerry's hand.  
"We're gonna have tons of fun, us five!" Cassidy announced, pulling John in for a hug as well.  
"Uh, he's not a hugger." Renee warned as Cassidy moved to hug Sherlock as well. Sherlock stuck his hand out instead, a fake but very convincing smile on his face.  
"Sherlock Holmes." He said as Cassidy and Jerry shook his hand in turn.  
"Renee's been telling us all about you!" Cassidy exclaimed.  
"She has, has she?" Sherlock sent Renee a small smirk and she turned away, cursing Cassidy and her big mouth.  
"She says you're really intelligent! She told us all about that story with the taxi driver, and I was wondering, could you teach me?"  
"Teach you?"  
"How to deduce!" Cassidy grinned, her eyes sparkling.  
"She sure is something." John whispered to Renee as they watched Sherlock try and explain to Cassidy that it couldn't be taught.  
"Jerry's the sane one out of the two of them." Renee whispered back with a smile as Jerry stepped into the conversation, apologising to Sherlock for his girlfriend's abruptness.  
"Now," Sherlock said, clapping his hands together. "Shall we all order a drink? I have questions for you."  
"Questions?" Jerry asked. "About what."  
"About Renee." Sherlock smiled coyly, and Renee groaned from behind him.  
"This is going to be a long night." She mumbled.  
-  
An hour later and Cassidy and Sherlock were in a deep conversation about Renee, Cassidy trying to convince Sherlock that Renee was from the government sent to spy on them all, and John and Jerry talking about medicine, a subject which they both seemed to share an interest in. Renee kept a track on both conversations, adding her thoughts in here and there to each one, but after a while just began to wonder and daydream - and remember.  
-  
_Jim stood leaning on the door frame with his eyes fixed on Kayla's still body as she lay on her bed staring up at the ceiling with a blank look in her eyes. His eyes were narrowed and he was wondering how he could get her to talk. He knew she was the right person, he knew she had everything they needed - the smarts, the ambition, the slightly psychopathic tendencies - she'd enjoyed killing that person, he could see it in her eyes that she felt the same thrill he did. Kayla, however, refused to accept it. She still had some of her sanity left, and he was determined to crush it._  
_"Is she still not speaking?" Sebastian asked as he appeared at Jim's side._  
_"She hasn't moved in days." Jim replied, not taking his eyes off of Kayla._  
_"Haven't you tried talking to her?"_  
_"Of course. But I don't think I'm the right person to get it done," Jim admitted. "I think we need Irene Adler."_  
_"... Irene, huh?" Sebastian turned to walk away. "I'll give her a call."_  
_-_  
_"Kayla?" Jim called softly as he entered the room. He didn't get a reaction. "Kayla, we have a guest for you. Their name is Irene Adler." He kneeled down by her side, so they were at the same eye level and sent her a small smile as she turned her head to look at him with furrowed brows._  
_"Is that a woman's name?" She asked in a croaky voice. Jim grinned. She was already speaking again._  
_"Yes, she's a woman."_  
_"What is she here for?"_  
_"To make you feel better."_  
_"Is she a doctor or something?"_  
_"Not at all!" Jim laughed, "Come on, darling. We just thought you wanted another girl to be friends with. After all, you're always stuck with Sebastian or I all the time."_  
_"I don't mind being stuck with you." Kayla shrugged. Jim's grin widened._  
_"Is that so?" He asked. "Well, I'm afraid you have to go. She's waiting for you." Kayla sighed loudly and forced her self into a sitting position before standing up. "There we go!" Jim grabbed her right hand and began pulling her out of the room, talking as they walked down the hallway of the home to the stairs leading down. "I think you'll really like her, she's offered to do all sorts of stuff with you-"_  
_"You're talking to me as if I'm a baby, Jim, I'm 27." Kayla interrupted, her voice blunt._  
_"I can't help it if I'm protective over you." Jim shrugged. "Now, down the stairs we go." Kayla reluctantly walked down the stairs into the main room. Irene was waiting for her on the sofa, but she stood as she saw Kayla walk in. "Now, you two have fun"_  
_"Where are you going?" Kayla asked, but Jim was already out the door. She sighed as she watched the door shut behind him and turned to give Irene a weak smile. "Hi." Irene walked over and Kayla automatically put her hand out to shake Irene's. However, Irene just looked at it as if it was the strangest thing in the world._  
_"I can't shake your hand."_  
_"Why not?"_  
_"You haven't showed in ages, I can tell. You look horrible." A pleasant smile spread across Irene's face. "But hi. I'm Irene Adler, and I'm a murderer. Now let's do something about that smell."_  
-  
_Kayla sat with a towel wrapped around her body and her head hanging over the bath. Irene was pouring water over it and massaging shampoo into her skin whilst humming a tune. She'd offered to wash Kayla's hair for her, and Kayla had agreed without really thinking about it. She supposed she could get to know Irene better whilst they were at it._  
_"Who have you murdered?" She asked, and Irene's humming broke off._  
_"Loads of people."_  
_"How many people have you murdered?"_  
_"Loads of people." Irene repeated. "You?"_  
_"... Just one. The other day. I was on a mission with Sebastian and the guy snuck up on us with a knife, I was surprised and automatically reached for the thing and - well, I killed him." Kayla said. "Was that wrong of me?"_  
_"You're asking a murderer if murdering is wrong?" Irene asked with a laugh, beginning to wash the shampoo out of Kayla's hair expertly. "Of course it's wrong, honey. But that doesn't mean it's not fun."_  
_"I think I was excited. When I killed that man, my hands were shaking, and my hands always shake when I get excited."_  
_"That's also wrong. And, to be honest, quite worrying. Only psychopaths do that." Irene patted Kayla's head comfortingly. "But if it's fun, why shouldn't you do it?"_  
_"Because... Because we're ruining peoples lives."_  
_"You knew you'd be ruining peoples lives the moment you faked your death and joined Sebastian and Moriarty, didn't you?" Irene asked._  
_"I guess so."_  
_"It's a mans world out there, darling." Irene hummed. "At least that's what they say, anyway. But my point is, us girls have to be mischievous if we want to get by in life. You have a great brain from what I've heard. Jim is helping you to use it, to put it to good use."_  
_"I know. And I'm thankful for that. I'm just a bit worried..." Kayla trailed off before speaking again. "What if, with all this murder, I just go insane?"_  
_"Oh honey," Irene laughed. "You think anyone here is sane? You think Jim is sane?" Kayla looked away._  
_"So you think I should keep going with all of this?"_  
_"You were thinking of stopping?" Irene asked in surprise. "You don't have to go out looking to murder people, but you shouldn't have to worry about doing it either. I said, didn't I? It's fun. And there's nothing worse than being bored."_  
_"Right." Kayla said, her eyes misting over. "Nothing worse than being bored. Irene?"_  
_"Yes?"_  
_"Can you tell me about your life?"_  
_"You better get comfy. This could take a while."_  
-  
"And that is why I think that Renee is secretly a spy sent to watch us all and report back to the government daily!" Cassidy ended her speech by taking a big swig of her drink and slamming the mug down on the counter with a victorious grin as Sherlock rolled his eyes. The noise brought Renee back into reality and she shook her head slightly.  
"Wait - what?" She asked. "What am I doing?"  
"That's all wrong," Sherlock countered. "She's not hiding in her apartment all day because she's writing up reports for the government, she's hiding in her apartment all day because she's hiding, I just need to figure out what from." Renee gave John and Jerry a look which seemed to ask 'what have I missed here?', but the two men just shook their heads.  
"Maybe she used to work for the government but they asked her to start killing people and she ran and now she's in hiding!" Cassidy said as if she'd come to an amazing conclusion.  
"Or maybe," Jerry added. "She's just someone who enjoys the inside."  
"Yeah, a bit of an introvert." John said. "Nothing wrong with that, is there, Sherlock?"  
"The evidence suggets it's more than that." Sherlock shook his head.  
"So, what are you hiding from, Renee?" Cassidy turned on Renee with narrowed eyes.  
"The Abominable Snowman." Renee said dryly. "I'm not hiding from anything, John's right, I'm just an introvert." Sherlock made a sound of disbelief and Renee glared at him. "That's all." She insisted.  
"But Sherlock said you knew self defense, and that suggests..." Renee sighed as Cassidy rambled on through the list of evidence Sherlock had given her that Renee was hiding a big mysterious past, Sherlock smirking at her.  
-  
"She's very helpful, your friend." Sherlock said conversationally as he, John and Renee walked back to Baker Street in the still falling rain later that night. "She wants me to recruit her to help me find out more about you. She'll be absolutely useless in that field, but I said yes anyway."  
"Gee, thank you." Renee said sarcastically, not looking at Sherlock. John sent her a apologetic look. "Look, Sherlock, can you give it up please? If you only want to 'be my friend' so you can discover my secrets I'd rather just not talk to you at all."  
"Sorry, Miss. Waters," Sherlock grinned, pulling his coat tighter around him. "You're much too interesting to be left alone."  
"Great." She muttered sarcastically. Inside, she really was feeling worried. She knew Sherlock, and she knew that if there was something he wanted to know, he found out about it no matter what. I'll have to be especially careful, she thought to her self, unaware all the while that eyes were still following her every move.  
-  
_"Kayla Adler." Kayla said suddenly, and Jim turned to her in surprise._  
_"What?"_  
_"You asked those years ago if I wanted a last name. Adler. I want it to be Adler." Kayla's eyes were shining with admiration as she said it, and Jim smirked to him self. Well, calling in Irene had definitely worked._  
_"Is there any reason you chose Adler of all names?"_  
_"I want to be like Irene Adler," Kayla said firmly._  
_"What, exactly like her?" Jim replied with a look of slight disgust. "Like, exactly? Do you know how she gets by in life?"_  
_"I know." Kayla shrugged. "I just meant I want her resolve and her passion for what she does. She said I needed to be mischievous to get by in life."_  
_"So does that mean you'll start going on missions with Sebastian again?" Jim asked, leaning closer to Kayla across the table with an excited glint in his eye. "Does that mean you'll stay with us?"_  
_"Will I have to murder more people?"_  
_"... Most likely." Kayla paused, her lips curving up ever so slightly as she remembered what Irene had said. 'If it's fun, why shouldn't you do it?'_  
_"I wouldn't dream of leaving."_  
-  
"So if you two know she's there why haven't you gone to see her yet?" The woman's voice rung through the phone to the male as he lowered his binoculars.  
"Jim is taking his time. Trying to think of the perfect time to pop in and say hi." He replied, not taking his eyes off of the small feminine figure walking the streets of London next to two men below him.  
"And what is he planning to do? Kill her for leaving?"  
"Kill her? Are you crazy?"  
"No, but he is."  
"Yeah, crazy for her! He wouldn't let a single hair on her head get harmed."  
"So why isn't he going to get her as soon as possible?"  
"He wants to scare her, make her feel safe and then take it all away, punish her for leaving him in the first place."  
"Cruel."  
"Very, but that's just his way."  
"It's good to know she's been found. I did miss her. What a shame for her she had to pick to live right by Sherlock Holmes of all people."  
"Indeed. Sherlock Holmes has been her downfall."


	5. Van Coon

_"Do you ever think that maybe she's fallen in a bit too deep?" Sebastian asked in a cautious tone of voice._  
_"What do you mean?" Jim asked, not looking up from his phone._  
_"Well, I know you wanted her to be insane, but like... Maybe she's a bit too crazy?"_  
_"You can never be too crazy." Jim shrugged, still staring at his phone screen._  
_"That's definitely not true." Sebastian scoffed. "When I go on missions with her it's like she's finding excuses just to kill people instead of just killing who she has to kill. She's absolutely bonkers, Jim, she talks about murder, she thinks about it non stop, she probably dreams about it too."_  
_"So she has enthusiasm, what's wrong with that?" Jim shrugged, not looking up._  
_"One of these days she's going to kill people she's not meant to kill." Sebastian warned, leaning back in his chair. He didn't get a reply. "Are you listening or are you too busy texting?"_  
_"Sorry, what?" Jim asked, finally glancing up._  
_"You're texting Kayla, aren't you?" Sebastian rolled his eyes. "You've been staring at that phone like it's your lover for the past half hour."_  
_"Watch your mouth, Sebastian," Jim's words were threatening, but he was laughing as he said them. "I'm not a love sick school girl."_  
_"Really? You sure are acting like one." Sebastian teased. "You adore that girl." Jim made a face. "Yesterday when you found out that Fred had winked at her that one time you had him killed."_  
_"He wasn't even a good bodyguard anyway." Jim huffed. "And that wasn't because he winked at her!"_  
_"Yeah, right. You've liked Kayla from the start, I could see it. It's taken you since she was just a 17 year old to figure it out. She's, what, 29, now? Took you long enough."_  
_"Oh, shut your mouth Sebastian Moran." Jim scoffed, but he was grinning._  
_"Oh, well. I don't care how much you love her, or how crazy she is, the girl was the right choice. We wouldn't be where we were today if it wasn't for her." Sebastian shrugged. "Where is she now, anyway?"_  
_"Decoding stuff, hacking into governments, the usual." Jim bobbed his shoulders, staring down at his phone once more as it dinged. Sebastian sighed before speaking up again._  
_"She adores you too, you know. Ever since we first met her she's clung onto you like anything. It's Jim this, Jim that!"_  
_"You feeling ignored, are you, Sebastian?" Jim teased._  
_"... She's like a little sister to me." Sebastian admitted after a while. "A very, very annoying sister, but a sister nonetheless. I just don't want her to mess up just because she's obsessed with, well, murder."_  
_"I promise you I'll rein her in a bit." Jim promised._  
_"Well whilst you're at it, kiss her or something will you? The tension in the room between you two makes me sick."_  
-  
Renee woke from her dream with a startled gasp leaving her lips. All she could see was darkness, so she guessed it must still be late at night. Breathing heavily she held a hand to her sweaty forehead and swung her legs out of bed, making her way to the bathroom to take a shower. I wish I could wash the memories away just as easily, she thought to her self solemnly as she stepped back out of the shower after washing. Dressing her self up in new pyjamas she sat her self down on the sofa in her living room and made to lay down when there was a knock at the door. Surprised, she stood and opened the door to find Sherlock waiting outside.  
"Can I come in?" He asked in a gentle tone of voice.  
"... Why?" Renee frowned. "So you can snoop around?"  
"No, so we can talk." Sherlock replied smoothly. "Can I come in?" Renee hesitated.  
"Alright, come in." She opened the door wider and Sherlock walked in, Renee closing the door behind him, flicking on the fairy lights as she did so. "So, what brings you down to 221C at," Renee checked the time on the desk clock. "4:25am?"  
"I heard your shower." Sherlock sat him self down on her sofa. "Wondered why you were awake."  
"Nightmares." Renee said flatly. "I get nightmares sometimes."  
"PTSD?" Sherlock tilted his head.  
"There you go again." Renee groaned, sitting down in the armchair opposite him. "Trying to deduce me. Do you have to know everything about everyone?"  
"Just you." Sherlock said. "I've never met anyone quite like you."  
"I'm flattered." Renee said in a blank voice.  
"Usually, people with a brain like mine want to show it off, not shut it down. I can tell you're interested in murder, to an almost worrying degree, yet you seem to not want to go to crime scenes all the time. Why is that?"  
"Sherlock, if you came down here to question me, I'm really not in the mood."  
"Well, why else would I come and talk to you?"  
"Normally people just like to chat about normal things, and not try and force the other person to spill all their secrets." Renee snapped. "My secrets are my own secrets, and if I want to tell you, I'll tell you, OK? But until that time comes, if that time comes, you're not getting anything out of me." Sherlock looked offended for a few seconds, and then rolled his eyes.  
"Some people are so stingy." He mumbled.  
"Do you want to stay or do you want to leave?" Renee asked sharply, pointing at the door.  
"Quite comfy where I am, thank you." Sherlock said in a fakely happy voice.  
"What are you doing awake now, anyway?"  
"My brain. Sometimes it moves so fast I can't catch any rest." Sherlock replied. "I assume you know the feeling?"  
"Yeah, I get that sometimes." Renee said. "I thought you just played the violin when that happened?"  
"... John banned me from playing it."  
"He banned you? What is he, your mother?" Renee laughed. "What did you even do?"  
"I put fingers in the butter." Sherlock said in a slightly guilty tone of voice. "It was for an experiment."  
"Ew." Renee stopped laughing. "No wonder you're banned." There was a slightly awkward silence for a moment.  
"You have bags under your eyes." Sherlock spoke up.  
"Gee, isn't that just what every girl wants to hear?" Renee said sarcastically. "I told you, I get nightmares. I don't get much sleep." Sherlock stood suddenly.  
"I'm going back upstairs."  
"Oh... That was abrupt." Renee frowned.  
"You like the violin, right? If I play it, maybe you can go to sleep quicker." Sherlock said with a tiny smile,  
"You're banned from playing it remember?"  
"I'll play it softly." Sherlock shrugged, grinning. "Think of it as another experiment - how long can John last hearing me play my violin at gone 4 in the morning?" Renee didn't reply, but watched him carefully. "What?"  
"Just so you know, just because you're being nice it doesn't mean I'm going to tell you about my self." She said softly. Sherlock's grin fell. "But still, thank you."  
"You're welcome," He said in a sharper tone of voice. "Next time, I won't bother. Now, go get into bed."  
"What? Why?"  
"I'm about to go play the violin for you, remember? Do you want to fall asleep on the sofa?" He asked in exasperation.  
"Geez, fine, I'm going!" Renee laughed, her hands in the air. She smiled at him warmly before leaving for her bedroom. "And I really do mean it when I say thank you, even if you are only being nice to me to learn my secrets." She called over her shoulder as she entered her room.  
"Hm." Sherlock made a dismissive noise, and then, as soon as she was out of sight, walked to the large desk in the living room. Slowly, he opened the top drawer and fished out the spare key to her apartment. When John and he had gone around after the case with the taxi she'd mentioned in passing she'd been out that day to get a spare key cut, and as she'd said it she'd glanced over to the desk. Sherlock had been planning this ever since. Smirking, he closed the drawer, and left the apartment. Renee, unaware of what Sherlock had taken, lay curled up in bed, her eyes still open, awaiting the sound of the violin from upstairs. It was odd to see Sherlock Holmes be so nice, even if he did have an ulterior motive behind it all. It would be nice if he was just being nice for the sake of being nice but what were the chances of that happening, she wondered. From upstairs the sounds of a violin wafted down, and Renee smiled, closing her eyes. I better enjoy it before John wakes up, she thought, and all hell breaks loose.  
-  
_"Hey, Kayla," Jim greeted the woman as she entered the house, humming to her self._  
_"Jim!" She grinned, looking at him in surprise. "I didn't know you'd be here!" Jim shrugged with an innocent smile._  
_"I hardly ever see you anymore, so I thought I'd pop in and say hi." He said. "You're always off on missions, or hacking into who knows where?"_  
_"Missions," Kayla laughed. "I like that word, makes me sound like a spy."_  
_"I'm serious, Kayla," Jim said as she closed the door behind her. "I really hardly see you anymore."_  
_"Aw," Kayla smiled. "Are you worried I'm doing too much? I can handle it, Jim. You taught me how."_  
_"Sebastian is worried about you." Jim continued as Kayla sat down at the table next to him. "And me, too. You have a lot of people's blood on your hands," Kayla frowned, tilting her head,_  
_"What's wrong with that?"_  
_"Just don't let your self go overboard, OK?" Jim asked, leaning towards her. "For me, OK?"_  
_"How can I say no to that?" Kayla chuckled. "OK, Jim, I promise I'll try and do less."_  
_"Thank you." Jim stood as if he was going to leave, and then smirked at her slightly. "Oh, and Sebastian said I had to do this." And he leaned down and pressed his lips to her gently. When he pulled away her whole face was red._  
_"Did he now?" Kayla said in a quiet voice._  
_"Of course, I wanted to anyway." Jim shrugged. "But he said he was getting sick of the tension in the room, so-" He was cut off as Kayla stood up off of her seat and crashed her lips back onto his. He wrapped his arms around her waist, smiling against her as he kissed back, and then pulled away. "Alright then." He breathed as she smiled up at him. "I'm guessing you wanted that to happen too, then?"_  
_"More than anything." She grinned._  
-  
Renee smiled down at the ginger cat lying on her lap, stroking it softly as she listened to Cassidy talk about the latest book she'd read, Jonathan Strange and Mr Norrell, and how it was absolutely totally the best book ever in existence. She'd been invited to Cassidy and Jerry's house after work and she'd decided, why not? So here she was, sitting at their kitchen table with one of their cats on her lap, talking about books. She'd been there for the past hour learning all about pretty much every book Cassidy owned and what was good about them, with Jerry making his occasional comment in between his girlfriend's ramblings.  
"You say that about every book you read," Jerry said in an accusing tone of voice as he sat down opposite Renee at the table, passing his girlfriend a hot chocolate.  
"And I mean it about every book I read." Cassidy replied firmly, taking the hot chocolate and blowing onto it.  
"Every book you read is the best book ever in existence?" Renee asked in amusement, and Cassidy nodded enthusiastically. "If you say so!"  
"But enough about books, Renee," Cassidy nudged her friend's shoulder with her own, looking mischievous. "How's Sherlock?" Renee rolled her eyes at the suggestive tone Cassidy was using.  
"I dunno, fine I guess." She shrugged. "He's still trying to shove his nose into my business."  
"He's a curious guy," Jerry spoke up. "I hope you keep those secrets of yours well hidden, Renee." He joked.  
"Very well hidden." Renee said with a grin.  
"Have you gone on another case with him yet?" Cassidy asked. "He said he wanted you to, didn't he?"  
"Yeah, he's had a few cases since the taxi one but he said none of them were interesting enough for me to join in with." Renee sighed, staring down at the cat on her lap as it stretched. "The longer he makes me wait for a case the less I want to go on one,"  
"It must be amazing though, mustn't it?" Cassidy said with a dreamy look in her eyes. "To see him doing his thing - you know, deducting everything."  
"Amazing." Renee said drily. "You better watch out, Jerry, I think your girlfriend has a thing for consulting detectives." Jerry pulled a face that made Cassidy burst into laughter just as Renee heard a dinging noise from her phone. She fished it out of her pocket as best she could without disturbing the cat and groaned as she saw who it was from.  
'Tower 42, Old Broad Street. I have a case - SH'  
"Oooh!" Cassidy cried as she read the text over Renee's shoulder. "How did he know we were just talking about that?!"  
"Is it Sherlock?" Jerry asked with a grin as Cassidy ushered her cat off of Renee's lap.  
"Yes, yes, he has a case for Renee to help him with - you better go quickly, Renee," Cassidy said, pulling Renee up and off of her chair.  
"But-"  
"Go on! I know you're excited about it really," Cassidy grinned cheekily. "I can see it in your eyes. Go on, now, we'll see you tomorrow at the bookshop."  
"... Right." Renee sighed, slinging her bag over her shoulder. "See you tomorrow, Jerry."  
"Bye." Jerry waved cheerfully. "And good luck."  
"I have a strange feeling I'll need it." Renee said as Cassidy basically pushed her out of the front door. "Bye!"  
"Bye bye!" Cassidy called as Renee left the house, her phone dinging again.  
'Hurry up. -SH'  
Renee tapped back a reply as she hurried for the main road to call a taxi, rolling her eyes as she did so.  
'Coming - RW'  
Cassidy was right, though, Renee thought with a slight smile. She was definitely excited.  
-  
When Renee stepped out of the taxi at her destination she was immediately greeted with the sight of Sherlock and John waiting for her at the doors of the building.  
"Took your time." Sherlock said in a biting tone of voice as she reached them, smiling at John as she did so.  
"Maybe you should have text me earlier, then." Renee retorted, sending him a fake smile which he returned with equal enthusiasm. The three of them entered the building, John's eyes widening as they did so - the place was posh, very posh. "So what's the case?" Renee asked.  
"I hardly know my self." John shrugged as they made their way up the escalator, still staring around him in amazement. "Sherlock just said we needed to go to the bank."  
"You'll see." Sherlock said without any other information when Renee gave him a curious look. Then, as they reached the reception desk, "Sherlock Holmes." He addressed one of the receptionists. She smiled up at him with a nod. "... You've had a cat on you," Sherlock said, casting Renee a side glance as the receptionist tapped away at her computer.  
"Yes, I _was_ at Cassidy and Jerry's house." Renee replied, putting emphasis on the 'was'. "They say hello, by the way."  
"Delightful." Sherlock said flatly and Renee shared a look with John.  
-  
A little later the three of them were being shown into someone's office by a secretary, a man walking into the room just after they had entered. Renee gave him a one over and then settled her eyes on his face - he shouted 'pretentious', and he made her feel incredibly uncomfortable.  
"Sherlock Holmes!" He said as he held out his hand for Sherlock to shake.  
"Sebastian." Sherlock responded with a tight lipped smile, shaking his hand reluctantly.  
"Howdy, buddy. How long's it been? Eight years since I last clapped eyes on you?" Sebastian grinned, and Sherlock didn't reply but simply looked at him with barely hidden dislike. Sebastian turned to look at John and Renee with a questioning gaze.  
"These are my friends, John Watson and Renee Waters." Sherlock said, eyeing Sebastian carefully as he said the word friends. Sebastian looked surprised, pointing at Renee.  
"Friends?" He gave a doubtful laugh, and Renee saw Sherlock raise an eyebrow at Sebastian as if to ask him, 'What's wrong with that?'. She felt her self grow to dislike Sebastian even more.  
"Colleague." John replied, shaking Sebastian's hand, and out of the corner of her eye she saw Sherlock's face drop slightly, as if he was annoyed.  
"Right," Sebastian said, shaking his head slightly, and then reached to shake Renee's hand too. "And you're just a colleague too, are you?"  
"No, we're friends." Renee said firmly, grinning inwardly at John and Sherlock's surprised looks. Sebastian shook Renee's hand with a frown, sending a look of doubt back at Sherlock. Sherlock was smiling to him self smugly at Sebastian's reaction, and sent Renee a small nod as Sebastian walked past them to sit down at his desk. She grinned back in reply.  
"Well, grab a pew." Sebastian said awkwardly, as he sat down. "D’you need anything? Coffee, water?"  
"No, thank you." Renee said. Sherlock simply shook his head and John answered with a simple 'No.'  
"No?" Sebastian turned to his secretary. "We're all sorted here, thanks." As she left the three took a seat opposite Sebastian's desk.  
"So, you're doing well." Sherlock said conversationally. "You've been abroad a lot."  
"Well, some." Sebastian said.  
"Flying all the way around the world twice in a month?" Sherlock carried on, faking an expression of being impressed. Sebastian laughed and pointed at Sherlock.  
"You're doing that thing again, aren't you?" He turned to look at Renee and John with a grin. "We were at uni together. This guy here had a trick he could do."  
"It's not a trick," Sherlock said quietly, looking down. Renee raised her eyebrows at Sebastian in distaste as he carried on speaking.  
"He could look at you and tell you your whole life story."  
"Yes," John said. "I've seen him do it."  
"Put the wind up everybody. We hated him." Sebastian said, and Renee shot Sherlock a look to see he was looking in the opposite direction to hide his face. She frowned at Sebastian deeply, but he didn't seem to notice. "You’d come down to breakfast in the Formal Hall and this freak would know exactly what you'd been doing the last night."  
"I simply observed." Sherlock said, again using a quieter voice than usual.  
"Go on, enlighten me. Two trips a month, flying all the way around the world – you’re quite right. How could you tell?" Sebastian said in a teasing voice. "You’re gonna tell me there was, um, a stain on my tie from some special kind of ketchup you can only buy in Manhattan." Next to Renee, John smiled, but Renee still had on a look of slight disgust.  
"No," Sherlock said. "I-"  
"Maybe it was the mud on my shoes!" Sebastian said, and then looked at Renee. "Have you seen him do it?" He asked her. "It's bloody frustr-"  
"Your watch." Renee said in a blank voice. Sherlock raised his eyebrow at her, smirking slightly.  
"W-What?" Sebastian faltered.  
"The time is right, but the date is wrong. Says two days ago. Crossed the dateline twice but you haven't altered it." She carried on smoothly. "Also, it's a New Breitling. That only came out this February. So, within a month." There was an awkward silence as Sebastian stared at her in amazement. Sherlock turned his head to hide his grin.  
"O-Oh." Sebastian muttered. "So you can do it too, huh?" He tried covering his awkwardness with a laugh. "You two make a good pair, then." He said with a very forced laugh which soon died out. "Right, um, anyway, I'm glad you could make it over." He coughed to hide his dying attempt at hiding the awkwardness of his situation, facing Sherlock once more, who was still smiling to him self. "We've had a break-in."  
-  
Sebastian lead the three of them across the trading floor towards another door.  
"Sir William’s office – the bank’s former Chairman. The room’s been left here like a sort of memorial. Someone broke in late last night." Sebastian explained as they neared the door.  
"What did they steal?" John asked.  
"Nothing, just left a little message." Sebastian said, holding his security card against the door to unlock it. Inside the room hanging on the wall behind a desk was a large painting of someone who Renee assumed was the late Sir William. To the left of the painting on the wall in yellow someone had sprayed a pattern which looked vaguely like an eight with the top left open, and a straight, horizontal line on top. On the painting the yellow had been sprayed again, this time in a simple line covering the eyes, trails of the paint dripping down the painting. Sherlock walked further into the room, tugging Renee with him, and the two stood opposite the graffiti for a moment.  
"Get a good look at it," Sherlock said to her in a whisper. "Remember, I brought you on this case to help out."  
"I know," Renee whispered back, pushing his hand off of her arm and sending him an annoyed look. "I'm looking." From behind them, John watched on in slight amusement.  
-  
Back in Sebastian's office the three of them crowded around a computer as Sebastian showed them the security footage.  
"Sixty seconds apart." Sebastian was saying as he flicked between two images: One taken at 23:34:01 which showed the paint on the wall and on the portrait, and one a minute earlier – 23:33:01 – when the wall and portrait were still untouched. "So, someone came up here in the middle of the night, splashed paint around, then left within a minute."  
"How many ways into that office?" Sherlock asked. Sebastian smirked.  
"Well," He said. "This is where it gets really interesting." The three of them followed Sebastian back to reception area where they once again crowded around a computer that had a layout of the trading floor and its surrounding offices. "Every door that opens in this bank, it gets logged right here. Every walk-in cupboard, every toilet."  
"That door didn't open last night," Sherlock mumbled.  
"There’s a hole in our security. Find it and we’ll pay you – five figures." Sebastian reached into the inside of his jacket and pulled out a cheque. "This is an advance. Tell me how he got in, there’s a bigger one on its way."  
"I don't need an incentive, Sebastian." Sherlock glared daggers at Sebastian as if he'd been greatly insulted, and then grabbed Renee by the arm again. "Come on." And he began to pull her away.  
-  
Sherlock strided in to Sir William's office with Renee right behind him, having once again shoved his hand off of her arm, and pulled out his phone.  
"I'll take pictures in here." He said to her. "You go out there and find out who this message was left for."  
"Hey, I said I'd help you not let you order me around." Renee said, her eyebrows flying up. Sherlock turned and gave her an exasperated look.  
"Do you want me to say please?" He asked in a tone of voice that suggested he wouldn't even if he wanted her to. Renee rolled her eyes at him.  
"Fine," She muttered, and left the room into the trading floor once again. "This is so embarrassing..." She mumbled to her self as she placed her self behind someone's desk where she could see part of the graffiti message. Taking a deep breath, she ducked down, then slowly rose back up, staring firmly forward at the glass doorway to Sir William's office so she didn't have to see the weird looks people were giving her. Ducking sideways, she hurriesd backwards for a bit before scurrying to the side so she was behind yet another desk, ducking down and then up again to the confusion and amusement of the people watching her. She carried on for a bit, dodging columns as she went, before backing towards an office on the other side of the floor. She stopped in that doorway, moving up and down for a bit before backing into the room and standing behind the chair of whoever worked there. Her eyes widened - it was the perfect view to the graffiti message left in Sir William's room. She moved around a bit more to check that was the only place you could see it from, and once conluding it was she grinned. "Perfect!" She exclaimed under her breath, moving back to the door to see who's room it was. There were two headers on the door - One that told her it was the office of the Hong Kong Desk Head, and one that gave the name of the person - Edward Van Coon. She slid the sign out of it's holder and looked up to see Sherlock exiting Sir William's room. She immediately rushed over to him, waving the sign enthusiastically.  
"Edward Van Coon," She said, smiling widely. "You can check if you like,"  
"No, thank you," Sherlock sent her a look of amusement. "I saw your little dance from where I was. Very nice work."  
"Oh, right," Renee turned slightly red, looking down. "OK then. Let's get John."  
-  
"So, you two get everything you need?" John asked as they regrouped with him.  
"Yes," Sherlock said, sending Renee a tiny smirk. "That graffiti was a message for someone at the bank working on the trading floors. We find the intended recipient and ..." He gave John an expectant look.  
"... They'll lead us to the person who sent it." He finished off Sherlock's sentence.  
"Obviously." Sherlock said as they went down the escalators.  
"Well, there's three hundred people up there." John said. "Who was it meant for?"  
"Pillars." Sherlock said.  
"What?" John asked, but Sherlock said nothing, simply nudged Renee's arm and made a motion that made it clear he was expecting her to explain the rest.  
"Pillars and the screens. Very few places you can see that graffiti from, which kind of narrows the field." Renee smiled at John.  
"And of course the message was left at eleven thirty-four last night. That tells us a lot." Sherlock carried on, pleased with her explanation.  
"Does it?" John blinked as they left through the revolving doors.  
"Traders come to work at all hours. Some trade with Hong Kong in the middle of the night. That message was intended for someone who came in at midnight." Sherlock's hand dropped down to Renee's where he swiped the name card from her hand, holding it up to John. "Not many Van Coons in the phone book. Taxi!"  
-  
After a taxi ride, they were outside a block of flats, Renee scuffing her feet as she held her hands behind her back. She turned around every once in a while to check the streets and the tops of the buildings around her; she felt watched. Beside her, Sherlock pressed the door buzzer marked ‘Van Coon’. Releasing it, he looked into the security camera above the buzzers, waiting a couple of seconds before pressing the buzzer again. There was no response. John sighed.  
"So what do we do now? Sit here and wait for him to come back?" He asked. Sherlock ignored him, his eyes narrowed as he inspected the wall of buzzers.  
"Hm..." He focused in on one, a triumphant smile growing on his face. "Just moved in." He tapped Renee on the shoulder to get her attention, pointing at the buzzer.  
"What?" John asked.  
"The floor above. New label." He said to John before turning to Renee. "Do you mind? They're more likely to let a girl in."  
"They could have just replaced it." John frowned.  
"They'll let anyone in, it doesn't have to be a girl." Renee raised an eyebrow at him.  
"Yes, but I want to see your acting skills." Sherlock grinned, before replying to John. "No one ever does that." And he rung the buzzer, pushing Renee up to the security camera gently.  
"Hello?" Came a woman's voice.  
"Oh, er, hello!" Renee said, smiling into the security camera. "Um, I live in the flat just below you, I don't think we've met?"  
"No, well, uh, I've just moved in." The woman replied.  
"Actually, er, this is kind of embarrassing but... I just locked my keys in my flat," Renee gave a convincing awkward laugh.  
"Do you want me to buzz you in?" The woman asked.  
"Yeah," Renee said, and then added after Sherlock nudged her not so gently in the ribs. "And, er, can we use your balcony?"  
"... What?"  
-  
Renee sighed as she stood on the balcony of the flat above Van Coon's. She'd managed to persuade the woman to let her use her balcony without much effort. "Better get to it," She mumbled to her self, looking over the side to the ground several floors below. Luckily for her, she was on the top floor where the flats had balconies which only ran halfway across the front of the flat, whereas the floor below had full-width balconies. With a grimace, Renee clambered as gracefully as she could over the woman's balcony and dropped onto Van Coon's. "This door better be unlocked." She grumbled to her self as she stood from her landing, looking over the edge of the balcony again before turning to the door. "Thank God..." She breathed as the door opened easily. Just as she opened the door her phone buzzed and she fished it out in case it was Sherlock, but found it was from an unknown number.  
'Nice jump' It read, and she frowned at it before shrugging and entering the apartment, waking across the very elegantly decorated living room. "Whooo," Renee whistled. "Someone had money..." The furtinure was white leather, the tables were black and shiny with hardly any clutter. She inspected everything as she went through the living room, glancing at the pile of books on a table that remindeed her of Cassidy. As she reached to open the fridge the front door to the flat buzzed.  
"Renee?" John's voice comes through, and she jumped. She'd forgotten she had to let them in, she'd been so distracted. "Are you OK?" She hurried to the front door, opening it.  
"Sorry," She said with a sheepish smile as Sherlock swept past her into the flat. "Got distracted,"  
"It's fine," John assured her. "If it was Sherlock I'd still be out there." Sherlock sent John a look of disdain and then ignored them both and headed straight for the hall. "Find anything interesting?"  
"Not much," Renee answered, bobbing her shoulders. There came a loud noise from the hall Sherlock had walked down and John and Renee shared a look. "Oh, great." She muttered, and the two followed the noise. Sherlock exited a room just as they neared it, blocking the entrance.  
"He's dead." He said simply, taking his phone out of his pocket. Renee's eyes widened, and she automatically took a step towards the room. Sherlock stood still, not moving so she could go in, raising his eyebrows at her. Sherlock threw his phone to John who caught it clumsily, not expecting it, and then he stepped back into the room, Renee following him almost eagerly. "Call the police." Sherlock ordered John, watching Renee carefully as she neared the dead body with wide eyes. "It seems we have another murder to solve."


	6. Realisation

Renee stood leaning against the wall of Van Coon's bedroom, Sherlock's coat hung over her arms to hide her trembling hands as the man put on latex gloves a few steps in front of her. A photographer was taking pictures of Van Coon's body lying on the bed and a forensics officer was dusting for fingerprints on the nearby mirror, the distant sound of other forensic officers in the flat floating through the room.  
"D'you think he lost a _lot_ of money? I mean, suicide is pretty common among City boys." John was saying. His words made Sherlock look up and give Renee a look that seemed to say, 'how stupid?'.  
"We don't know that it was a suicide." He said. "Right, Renee?"  
"Right," Renee agreed.  
"Come on. The door was locked from the inside; you had to climb down the balcony." John said in an exasperated voice. Sherlock ignored him, squatting down by a suitcase on the floor near the bed and opening the lid, shifting through the contents.  
"Been away three days, judging by the laundry." He muttered to him self before straightening up and looking towards Renee and John. "Look at the case. There was something tightly packed inside it."  
"Thanks - I'll take your word for it." John let out a small, dry sounding laugh, sending Renee a look of disbelief.  
"Problem?" Sherlock asked, looking slightly offended by John's tone of voice. As he spoke he picked up another pair of latex gloves and walked towards Renee, holding them out.  
"Yeah," John said. "I'm not desperate to root through some bloke's dirty underwear."  
"What are these for?" Renee asked, staring at the latex gloves. Sherlock rolled his eyes.  
"What do you think?" He asked, taking his coat from her and throwing to John. It hit John directly in the face making him huff loudly. "Go on," He said as he shoved the latex gloves into Renee's lightly shaking hands. "Take a look." Renee looked at Sherlock doubtfully. He sent her a tiny, encouraging smile and tilted his head towards Van Coon's unmoving body. "Go on." Renee shoved the gloves on. Alright, she thought as her stomach twisted nervously, better get to it. She walked towards the body as Sherlock began to speak.  
"Those symbols at the bank - the graffiti. Why were they put there?" He directed this question to John as he watched Renee carefully.  
"What, some sort of code?" John guessed as Renee inspected Van Coon's shoes, and then his legs before moving up to carefully open his jacket, checking all the inside pockets.  
"Obviously. Why were they painted? If you want to communicate, why not use e-mail?" Sherlock continued.  
"Well, maybe he wasn't answering."  
"Good, you follow."  
"No." John said, and Sherlock threw him a look as Renee moved on to examine Van Coon's hands.  
"What kind of message would everyone try to avoid?" Sherlock said as John frowned in confusion. "What about this morning - those letters you were looking at?"  
"Bills." John said in a questioning tone of voice. Sherlock walked towards Renee as she leaned down towards Van Coon's mouth, and then with quivering hands pried open his mouth, pulling out a small black origami flower.  
"Yes..." Sherlock said in a low tone of voice as he neared Renee. She turned and handed it to Sherlock with a look of disgust on her face, "He was being threatened."  
"Not by the gas board." John joked under his breath as Sherlock lifted an evidence bag to put the flower in it, John leaning in to get a closer look.  
"Get this bagged up, will you?" Came a man's voice from outside the bedroom. "And see if you can get prints off this glass." A young, plain clothed police officer walked into the bedroom, Sherlock turning to walk towards him.  
"Ah, Sergeant," Sherlock said. "We haven't met." He offered his hand out to shake, but the man simply put his hands on his hips, giving Sherlock a look of disapproval.  
"Yeah, I know who you are; and I'd prefer it if you didn't tamper with any of the evidence." He snapped. Sherlock lowered his hand, his smile dropping, and gave the evidence bag to the officer.  
"I've phoned Lestrade. Is he on his way?" He asked, turning to briefly send John and Renee a look of distaste. Renee pursed her lips in return - she agreed with Sherlock; this guy didn't seem great.  
"He's busy," The man said. "I'm in charge. And it's not Sergeant; It's Detective Inspector. Dimmock." Renee's eyebrows shot up - this man looked much too young to be a Detective Inspector. Dimmock stalked out of the room, and Sherlock, John and Renee shared a look of surprise before following him into the living room. "We're obviously looking at a suicide." Dimmock sniffed as he handed away the evidence bag to one of the forensics teams.  
"That does seem the only explanation of all the facts." John agreed.  
"Actually-" Renee began in a nervous voice, but Sherlock overtook her.  
"Wrong," He said. "It's one _possible_ explanation of _some_  of the facts." He turned to Dimmock. "You've got a solution you like, but you're choosing to ignore anything you see that doesn't comply with it."  
"Like?" Dimmock challenged, raising an eyebrow.  
"The wound was on the right side of the head."  
"And?" Dimmock asked, and Sherlock turned to Renee with an expectant look.  
"Van Coon was left-handed." She explained with a smile. Sherlock gave her a satisfied nod and then mimed pretending to try and point a gun to his right temple with his left hand, pulling a comical face as he did. "Requires quite a bit of contortion."  
"Left-handed?" Dimmock asked in amazement.  
"Oh, I'm amazed you didn't notice. All you have to do is look around this flat." Sherlock said sarcastically, pointing to the table beside the soda. "Coffee table on the left-hand side; coffee mug handle pointing to the left. Power sockets: habitually used the ones on the left. Pen and paper on the left-hand side of the phone because he picked it up with his right and took down messages with his left. D'you want me to go on?"  
"No, I think you've covered it." John said in a tired voice. Sherlock turned to Renee with a scarily large smile.  
"Miss. Waters, why don't you cover the last point?"  
"Who me? Oh, I really don't think-" Renee started as she noticed the dark glare Dimmock had turned onto her.  
"Oh, no, do have a go, I insist." Sherlock interrupted her. She hesitated, and then pointed towards the kitchen.  
"There's a knife on the breadboard with butter on the right side of the blade because he used it with his left." She said in a quiet voice. Sherlock clapped his hands together and turned to Dimmock with an impatient look on his face.  
"It's highly unlikely that a left-handed man would shoot himself in the right side of his head. Conclusion: someone broke in here and murdered him. _Only_ explanation of _all_ the facts."  
"But the gun - why-" Dimmock began.  
"He was waiting for the killer. He'd been threatened." Sherlock walked away, taking his coat from John's arms, shoving it on and then pulling his scarf and gloves out of the pockets to put on as well. Renee sent Dimmock an apologetic look and followed after him.  
"What?" Dimmock said.  
"Today at the bank. Sort of a warning." John explained.  
"He fired a shot when his attacker came in." Sherlock said.  
"And the bullet?" Dimmock asked. Sherlock sent Renee a look.  
"It, er, went through the open window." She said, and he nodded firmly at her.  
"Oh come on! What are the chances of that?!" Dimmock exclaimed.  
"Wait until you get the ballistics report. The bullet in his brain wasn't fired from his gun. I guarantee it." Sherlock bet.  
"But if his door was locked from the inside, how did the killer get in?" Dimmock asked.  
"Good!" Sherlock said condescendingly, pushing his hands into his gloves and grabbing Renee's arm. "You're finally asking the right questions." And with that, he flounced out of the room dramatically, pulling Renee with him.  
"Hey, hey! Why are you tugging me with you?" She cried.  
"Didn't want you in the room with that man any longer. His stupid might rub off on you." Sherlock sent her a small smirk. "And we can't have you losing all that brain power, can we? Now," He said as John caught up to them. "Let's drop in and say hi to Sebastian again, shall we?" As they left Van Coon's flats Renee pulled out her phone as it dinged.  
'How is the case going? - Cassidy x'  
'Sherlock's being nice - strangely nice. I'll keep you upated tomorrow. RW x' Renee sent her reply, speeding up to catch back up with John and Sherlock as she put her phone back in her pocket.  
-  
Later that night Sherlock, John and Renee had entered the restaraunt that Sebastian was having lunch with work colleagues in.  
"Over there." Sherlock pointed towards where he'd spotted Sebastian at his table, laughing as he ate and not noticing the two men and woman approaching him.  
"It was a threat. That's what the graffiti meant." Sherlock said as they reached the table, not wasting a moment to get straight to the point.  
"Um," Sebastian said, looking up at them in annoyance. "I'm kind of in a meeting. Can you make an appointment with my secretary?"  
"I don't think this can wait. Sorry, Sebastian. One of your traders - someone who worked in your office - was killed." Sherlock said. Sebastian's expression morphed into one of surprise.  
"What?" He asked, straightening his back.  
"Van Coon. The police are at his flat," John said.  
"Killed?" Sebastian repeated in shock.  
"Sorry to intefere with everyone's digestion." Sherlock said sarcastically. "Still wanna make an appointment? Would, maybe, nine o'clock at Scotland Yard suit?" Sebastian put down his glass of water, nervously running his finger inside his shirt collar, and then stood up. "Renee," Sherlock whispered. "We'll take him into the toilets. You just wait outside." Renee sent him an almost hurt look.  
"Oh, OK." She said reluctantly. "I thought you wanted my help?"  
"I do." Sherlock admitted as John and Sebastian walked ahead of them towards the toilets. "You won't be missing much. Just wait outside."  
"If you say so, Mr. Holmes." Renee sighed, leaning against the wall outside the toilets as Sherlock and the other two went in. The door swung shut behind Sherlock and Renee took out her phone as she heard it ding twice more.  
'By the way, did you want to go to the pub after work tomorrow? If Sherlock allows it, of course ;) - Cassidy x'  
Renee smiled at this text, and then moved onto the next one.  
'Are you letting him boss you around?'  
At this text, Renee frowned. It was from the same unknown number that had text her before. She ignored it and replied to Cassidy that she'd love to go out with her and Jerry if possible. By the time she was putting her phone back in her pocket Sebastian was stalking out of the toilets in a huff, ignoring her as he walked right past back to his table. Sherlock and John exited soon after, Sherlock's face twisted into an expression of annoyance. Sherlock carried on right past Renee, John pausing to let Renee catch up with them.  
"What happened?" Renee asked John as they struggled to keep up with Sherlock's long strides,  
"Sebastian's not happy. He thinks Sherlock is getting side tracked." John explained. "But oh well. I guess that's all there is to be done for today."  
"Taxi!" Sherlock yelled as they exited the restaraunt. The three of them filed into the taxi, Sherlock first, Renee second and John third. "Baker Street." Sherlock told the taxi driver, and the driver nodded as the taxi began to pull off into the streets. There was silence for a while before Sherlock spoke up again. "You did well." He said, staring out the window. John and Renee looked at each other in confusion, John mouthing 'Who's he talking to?'. "Renee," Sherlock said in an annoyed tone of voice. "I'm talking to Renee."  
"Oh!" Renee said in a startled voice, shuffling in her seat awkwardly. "Um, thank you. Just kind of followed your lead, I guess,"  
"Yes, well, John always 'follows my lead' and I don't see him making any deductions." Sherlock said.  
"OI!" John cried, making Renee laugh.  
"Thank you." Renee told Sherlock with a smile after she'd stopped laughing. "It's good to know I'm helping out." There was silence for a bit more and then John spoke up in a cautious voice,  
"Uh, Renee," He asked. "What did you mean the other day? When you said you used to live a loud life?" Sherlock looked away from the window to see Renee's reaction. Her eyes had slightly hazed over and she was staring down at her hands.  
"Oh, that," She mumbled. "Nothing much. I just had a pretty hectic life before I came to Baker Street." Sensing she didn't want to talk about it anymore John nodded and said nothing more, and the three of them fell back into silence, John looking out of his window, Renee staring down at her hands and Sherlock ocassionally sending her a curious frown every now and then.  
-  
The next day before she left for work Renee got a text from Sherlock asking - well, more demanding - that she come upstairs, so a few minutes before she had to leave she bounded up the stairs to 221B and found the door open.  
"Um, hello?" She asked as she stepped in. Sherlock was standing facing the fireplace where many photographs were stuck on the wall around the mirror, his hands underneath his chin in a praying fashion.  
"Oh, Renee," He said in an uninterested voice as she entered. "There you are. I need you to help me."  
"What is it?" Renee asked as she stepped closer to the fireplace, staring at all the pictures Sherlock had placed on the wall of the graffiti that had been near and across Sir Wiliam's portrait.  
"We need to figure this out - what this code is, what it means." He said, pointing to the wall. "We're going to need to think - and think hard."  
"Um, Sherlock I'd love to help but I have a job to get to." Renee said as John appeared in the living room, fixing the tie he was wearing. "Hi, John."  
"Hi," John said with a smile. "Are you helping Sherlock out?"  
"Yes," Sherlock said at the same time Renee said, "No," Sherlock turned to glare at her.  
"I have to get to work, Sherlock," Renee said in an exasperated voice.  
"Which is more important? Your silly little books or people's lives?" Sherlock snapped. Renee shifted awkwardly from foot to foot.  
"But-" She began.  
"Sherlock, don't you think you can do this without help?" John asked in an amused tone of voice.  
"Of course I can," Sherlock said in an offended tone of voice. "Easily. It just makes it quicker to have two minds like mine working together." He made a face. "It's not like I enjoy working with someone else."  
"Right," Renee said, obviously put off by his words as she turned to leave. "I guess that's the cue for me to leave then." Sherlock watched her leave, annoyed.  
"Great, well done Sherlock, anyone else on the list of people you want to offend today?" John asked sarcastically.  
"..." Sherlock turned and swiped his eyes over John for a moment. "Your tie looks ridiculous." He said at last, and then turned back to the wall. John rolled his eyes.  
"I shouldn't have even asked." He muttered to him self.  
-  
"So the police think it was a suicide then?" Cassidy asked as she helped Renee sort out the order of the books on one of the bookshelves in the shop. "But Sherlock knows it was a murder?"  
"Yep," Renee said. "But Sebastian doesn't want to listen to a word Sherlock says. Thinks Sherlock is just getting distracted."  
"Sebastian sounds like a right di-"  
"What are you two ladies chatting about back here?" Jerry popped his head around the bookshelf, interrupting Cassidy's would be insult. "I hope you're working at the same time."  
"Of course!" Cassidy said, shoving a random book onto a random shelf without thinking.  
"Cassidy," Renee said in amusement as she took the book out of the shelf it had just been stuck in. "You just put Fifty Shades of Grey in the kids section." Cassidy turned a bright red, snatching the book out of Renee's hands.  
"Whoops!" She said, laughing awkwardly. Jerry sent her a look. "Alright, alright, I promise I'll start concentrating."  
"Good," Jerry grinned. "Renee, are you coming out after work with us?"  
"I don't know if I can," Renee smiled apologetically. "Sherlock seemed annoyed I wouldn't skip work earlier just to help him. He'll probably get really annoyed if I leave him hanging for much longer."  
"He sounds like a clingy boyfriend." Cassidy joked. Renee made a face.  
"Don't joke about that," She said. "I can't even imagine that."  
"You never know," Cassidy wiggled her eyebrows at Renee, giggling like a child. "You may not have to imagine it soon enough - Ow!" Renee had whacked her on the shoulder with a book.  
-  
At the same time that Renee made it back to Baker Street John was also returning.  
"Hi, John, how was the job interview?" Renee asked with a smile as they walked through the door together.  
"It was great, The interview went great." He said with a grin, and Renee made a 'oooh'ing noise.  
"And was the interviewer nice?" She asked in a cheeky tone of voice. John laughed.  
"Yes, she was." He said. "Very. Oh, why don't you come up to 221B? Sherlock will probably be annoyed if you stay down in 221C."  
"I thought he didn't want someone to help him?" Renee said drily, but followed John up the stairs anyway.  
"He just says stuff like that," John shrugged. "Don't listen to it. He probably loves having someone around who actually has a clue what he's on about." As they entered 221B they saw Sherlock sitting on one of the dining chairs with his back to the dining table, his fingers steepled under his chin. John walked further in, dropping his jacket onto his armchair.  
"I said, "Could you pass me a pen?"" Sherlock spoke up. John looked around the room as if he was expecting to find someone else in the room with them.  
"What? When?"  
"'Bout an hour ago." Sherlock said.  
"Didn't notice I'd gone out, then." John sighed, pickig up a pen from the table beside his chair and tossing it to Sherlock who caught it without looking. Renee dropped her bag on the sofa and walked up to the wall where all the photos were to look more closely at them, "I went to see about a job at that surgery."  
"How was it?" Sherlock asked.  
"It's great. She's great," John mumbled absently.  
"Who?"  
"The job,"  
""She"?"  
"... It." John corrected him self. Sherlock looked at him for a moment suspiciously and then jerked his head to the right towards his laptop.  
"Here, you two, have a look." He said, grabbing Renee's attention. She walked over to the computer, looking at the online news site that was open on the screen.  
'Ghostly killer leaves a mystery for police' it read. Next to the headline was a photograph of a bald man, and underneath it an article reading, 'An intruder who can walk through walls murdered a man in his London apartment last night. Brian Lukis, 41, a freelance journalist from Earl’s Court was found shot in his fourth floor flat but all his doors and windows were locked and there were no apparent signs of a break in. A police spokesman said they are still uncertain how the assailant broke in...'  
"The 'intruder who can wak through walls.'" John read aloud.  
"Happened last night. Journalist shot dead in his flat; doors locked, windows bolted from the inside - exactly the same as Van Coon." Sherlock said. John shared a look with Renee.  
"God. You think.."  
"He's killed another one." Sherlock nodded. He stood suddenly, walking towards where his coat was hung up by the door. "Let's go." John and Renee shared a look of slight annoyance, then both sighed and obediently followed Sherlock out the door.  
-  
In Scotland Yard Sherlock, John and Renee stood around the desk of Detective Inspector Dimmock who was sat down, his arms folded as Sherlock typed onto a laptop.  
"Brian Lukis, freeland journalist. Murdered in his flat..." Sherlock turned the laptop around to show Dimmock the web page he had previously shown John and Renee. "...Doors locked from the inside."  
"You've got to admit, it's similar." John said. Dimmock scowled at the laptop.  
"Both men killed by someone who can... walk through solid walls, or something." Renee piped up.  
"Inspector, do you seriously believe that Eddie Van Coon was just another CIty Suicide?" Sherlock asked. Dimmock looked away, not meeting his gaze, making Sherlock sigh, "You have seen the ballistics report, I suppose?"  
"Mmm." Dimmock nodded.  
"And the shot that killed him: was it fired from his own gun?" Sherlock said, raising an eyebrow.  
"No." Dimmock admitted reluctantly.  
"No. So this investigation might move a bit quicker if you were to take my word as gospel." Sherlock said. Dimmock stayed silent.  
"We've just handed you a murder enquiry." Renee spoke up, her voice softer than Sherlock's. "Five minutes in his flat." Dimmock looked up at her, his lips in a thin line. She sent him a small smile. "Please?"  
-  
As they entered Lukis' flat Sherlock took Renee's arm in his own once more, pulling her with him under the police tape at the bottom of the stairs.  
"If you keep pulling me around like that you won't have a hand left to grab me with." Renee grumbled, pulling her arm out of his grip. He sent her a look of disdain as they walked up the stairs into the living room.  
"Well," He said, waving his hand around at their surroundings. "Go on."  
"What?"  
"Deduce." He said drily.  
"I thought you said you didn't like working with other people." Renee glared at him. "With me." Sherlock sighed, rolling his eyes,  
"If I said sorry, would you just do it?" He asked. Renee looked like she was thinking for a moment, and then shrugged.  
"It wouldn't hurt." She smirked.  
"OK, fine, I'm sorry. I absolutely adore having you around, now will you do it?" Sherlock said.  
"Hm. If you keep using that tone with me you know I'll never tell you anything about my past, right?" Renee laughed, and then turned around, her eyes searching the living room.  
"Don't worry," Sherlock said, as he kneeled down beside an empty suitcase, eyeing a small black origami flower similar to the one that had been in Van Coon's mouth. "I'll still be looking around in here. I'm not doing nothing." Renee nodded and went to look out the kithen window at the nearby rooftops of lower buildings.  
"Four floors up," She called to Sherlock. "That's why they think they're safe,"  
"Put a chain across the door and bolt it shut; they think they're impregnable." Sherlock called back. "They don't reckon for one second that there's another way in." Renee turned back towards the stairs, spotting a skylight above the landing.  
"I don't understand." Dimmock said as John and he joined Sherlock and Renee.  
"You're dealing with a killer who can climb." Renee told him, hopping up on a box to get a closer look to the skylight which was high up on the roof.  
"What is she doing?" Dimmock asked John, who shrugged.  
"He clings to the walls like an insect." Renee said, looking down at Sherlock briefly before unhooking the latch to the window and pushing it upwards. "That's how he got in."  
"What?!" Dimmock said.  
"Climbed up the side of the walls, ran along the roof, dropped in through this skylight." Renee told Dimmock, stepping down from the box onto the landing again. "I know it sounds ridiculous but-"  
"You're not serious? Like spiderman?!" Dimmock cried.  
"He scaled six floors of a Docklands apartment building, jumped the blacony to kill Van Coon." Sherlock said.  
"Ok, hold on!" Dimmock laughed in disbelief.  
"And of course that's how he got into the bank. Ran along the widow ledge and onto the terrace." Sherlock continued. "We have to find out what connects these two men." He directed this last sentence to Renee, who was already kneeling down by a pile of books scattered up the side of the staircase. "That one," Sherlock ordered, pointing at a book which has fallen open at its front page, showing that it had been borrowed from Wet Kensington Library. Renee picked it up, handing it to him as he headed past her down the stairs. "Come on!"  
-  
In West Kensington Library Sherlock lead Renee and John to the aisle Lukis' book came from.  
"Date stamped on the book is the same day that he died." Sherlock said, checking the refernce number stuck to the bottom of the book's spine before finding the correct place among the shelves. John and Renee shrug at each other and join in, pulling books off of a nearby shelf on the other side of the aisle.  
"Sherlock, Renee," John said almost straight away. Renee and Sherlock joined him, Sherlock reaching over his shoulder to pull out handfuls of books that reveal the spray painted on the back of the shelf - the same two symbols that were sprayed across Sir William Shad's office. Sherlock smiled to him self, dropping the books in his hands to fish his phone out to take photos.  
"Sherlock!" Renee cried as the books hit the floor, immediately kneeling down to pick the books up frantically and checking their spines for any damage. John began to help her pick the books up, the two of them standing back up with the books in their arms.  
"Let's go," Sherlock said as he put his phone away, leaving the other two behind as they hurriedly put the books back on the shelf as quick as possible.  
-  
"So," Sherlock said as he stared at the pictures above the fireplace. "The killer goes to the bank, leaves a threatening cipher for Van Coon; Van Coon panics, returns to his apartment, locks him self in. Hours later, he dies."  
"The killer finds Lukis at the library; he writes the cipher on the shelf where he knows it'll be seen; Lukis goes home." John said.  
"Late that night, he dies too." Sherlock nodded.  
"Why did they die, though?" John asked. Sherlock reached forward and ran his fingers over the line painted across Sir William's face.  
"Only the cipher can tell us." He mumbled. Next to him, Renee was squinting hard at the graffiti, her brain working hard. They looked familiar, very familiar.  
"Hm." She hummed, staring down at the floor.  
"What is it?" Sherlock asked as he turned to look at her.  
"It's just..." Renee tilted her head. "I think I have something that can help," She muttered. "But I'll have to check it alone."  
"Why alone?" Sherlock said curiously.  
"Because." Renee said stoutly. "Just leave this bit to me." She said, and rushed down the stairs. Sherlock looked at John in surprise as they heard the door to 221C open and close.  
-  
Once inside 221C, Renee rushed for her desk. She opened one of the drawers, removed everything from it and then slowly and carefully lifted the bottom of the drawer off. Underneath was a large box that she took out delicately. From around her neck she untucked a necklace that had been hidden beneath her coat with a key dangling around it. Once she had the necklace off of her neck and in her hands she used the key to unlock the box, taking out the large journal that was inside. She sent a wary glance towards her door. It was locked, but one could never be too safe, so she moved to her bedroom, shutting the door behind her as she went, and sat down on her bed, opening the journal.  
"There must be something in here," She muttered to her self as she flicked through the pages. "If I remember the cipher, I must have come across it in my past. On a mission or something." She started half way through the journal, groaning. "If I have to look through this whole thing, this is going to take a long time. I better get started." About an hour later and she was still shifting through the pages of the journal, growing more and more frustrated every time a page didn't hold the answer she was looking for. "Maybe this was a bad idea..." Renee thought aloud, staring down at the page open on her journal. Her eyes caught sight of the words written on the page, and she frowned.  
_'I realised today,'_ It read. _'I can't do this anymore. Jim keeps saying I did a good job, but-'_ Renee took her eyes off the paper, staring up at her wardrobe blankly. That journal entry was from the worst day she could remember of her life. The day she'd murdered Lily Caulfield.  
-  
_Kayla held her hands in front of her. They weren't shaking anymore; she wasn't excited anymore. She was distraught. At her feet lay the body of a child. At first glance, they looked like they were just sleeping._  
_"Oh my god," Kayla mumbled, taking a step away from the child. "What have I done?"_  
_"Kayla?" Sebastian's voice rung out in her ear. "Are you alright? You need to leave the house now, before the police come. Have you got what you went for?" Kayla didn't answer, she was too busy staring at the dead body of the child. "Kayla? If you don't leave soon you could get caught, don't make me come and collect you."_  
_"Oh, God," Kayla continued whispering, kneeling down slowly. Her hand reached for the child's body, and she shook it gently. The child didn't react. "I'm so sorry..." Kayla mumbled as tears rose up in her eyes. "I'm so, so, sorry."_  
_"Kayla?!" Sebastian's voice shouted. "I said, you have to leave right now!" Kayla couldn't even hear him as she gathered the child's body into her arms, the tears beginning to fall._  
_"I'm so sorry," She said, her voice cracking as she stroked back the child's hair. "I'm so sorry,"_  
_"Right, that's it, I'm coming to get you, stay where you are." Sebastian ordered over the ear piece. Kayla hadn't even heard him, she was too busy cradling the small body in her arms as the tears fell faster._  
_"Oh my god, I'm so sorry," She whispered to the child until she could no longer speak over her crying. There was the sound of a window opening and a man stepped through into the room, looking annoyed. His angry expression changed, however, when he saw Kayla with the child lying in her arms as she sobbed over it._  
_"Kayla?" He asked, taking a few steps towards her. She shook her head, refusing to look at him. "What are you doing?" The distant sound of police sirens met his ears and he groaned. "Come on, we have to be quick." He grabbed Kayla by the arms when she didn't answer, tugging her up. The body of the child fell from her arms back on the ground and she reached for it._  
_"No, no, leave me here!" Kayla cried, but Sebastian was pulling her away desperately towards the window. She thrashed in his arms, but he kept hold of her, grimacing._  
_"We're leaving, now." He ordered, pulling her up onto her feet._  
_"I'm a monster," Kayla whispered through her sobs. "I'm a monster, Sebastian." Sebastian shoved her towards the window, blocking her view of the dead child._  
_"Get out," He said, pushing her nearer to the window again. "We can talk about this later, just get out." Kayla said nothing more but clambered out of the window with a sudden urge to get as far away from this house as she could, all the while thinking only one thought,_  
_'What have I done?'_  
-  
Renee slammed the journal shut angrily.  
"Don't think about that," She hissed to her self. "That's all in the past. You're helping people now." But a small voice in her head was telling her she could never run away from what she'd done that day. Lily Caulfield had only been 6 years old. Happy, with a kind family, and Renee had ruined all of that. "Never think about it again." Renee picked up the journal and threw it on the floor. "I don't why I keep you," She spat at it. "All you do is remind me everything I've ever done wrong!" The journal hit the ground with a loud thud, falling open onto a page that had a very familiar yellow sign on it. Renee's eyes widened slightly. "Wait," She breathed as she knelt down to get a closer look. The cipher - it was in her journal. She picked up the journal tenderly, placing it on her bed, and read the entry. "Well, what are the chances." She mumbled, stroking the page. It didn't tell her what the cipher's message was, but it did tell her what it meant - they were numbers. She came across it once on a job she had to do for Jim all those years ago. Quickly she fished out her phone, dialing Sherlock's number.  
"Renee?" He asked as he picked up almost straight away. "What is it?"  
"I know what the ciphers mean," Renee said enthusiastically. "It’s an ancient number system! Hangzhou, these days, only street traders use it."  
"What? How did you find that out?" Sherlock asked curiously.  
"Never mind that," She said. "Now we just need to figure out what it really means."  
"... Are you sure about this?" Sherlock said in an uncertain voice.  
"I'm going to Scotland Yard." Renee said, standing up off her bed. "I'm going to get Lukis' diary. You see if you can find anywhere that Van Coon had been." And with that, she hung up, feeling oddly excited she'd managed to half crack the code of the cipher.  
-  
"Your friend..." Dimmock was saying as he rummaged through a box of Luki's possessions on a desk, Renee standing eagerly next to him.  
"Yes, whatever you have to say about him, I agree." Renee joked, knowing Dimmock was talking about Sherlock.  
"He's an arrogant sod." Dimmock finished.  
"Oh, well that's tame. Most people say a lot worse." Renee grinned. Dimmock handed her a small diary.  
"Here you are. The journalist's diary." He said as she took it from him.  
"Thank you, Detective Inspector," She smiled at him. "I promise you I'll use this right!" And she flounced away, Dimmock watching her go with a look of confusion.  
-  
Out on the streets of London, Renee walked along with her nose stuck in Lukis' diary.  
"And the address should be..." She muttered, lifting her head to look around her to spot the shop she was looking for. Just as she was about to spot it she bumped into someone who had been walking her way. "Ooof!" She cried, rubbing her nose.  
"Renee!" Sherlock's voice said, and she looked up to see him staring down at her.  
"Sherlock!" She grinned, still rubbing her nose tenderly, then noticed John at his side. "John!"  
"Eddie Van Coon brought a package here the day he died – whatever was hidden inside that case. I’ve managed to piece together a picture using scraps of information," Sherlock told her quickly, not bothering to say hello or ask her what she was doing there. "Credit card bills, receipts. He flew back from China, then he came here, I don't know where, but-"  
"That shop over there." Renee smiled, pointing to the other side of the road. Sherlock frowned.  
"How can you tell?"  
"Lukis' diary. He was here too, wrote down the address." She smiled wider at his expression.  
"Oh." He said, and Renee headed towards the shop. The three of them entered the shop which consisted largely of decorative cats which had waving paws.  
"Hello," Renee and John greeted the shop keeper politely. She smiled back at them.  
"You want lucky cat?" She asked, picking up one of the cats.  
"No, thanks. No." John shakes his head, as Renee walked off to join Sherlock in looking around the shop.  
"Ten pound. Ten pound!" The shop keeper insisted.  
"No." John smiled awkwardly.  
"I think your wife, she will like!" The shop keeper said, nodding towards Renee.  
"Who? Um, no!" John laughed, shaking his head. "No. She's not... no." He coughed awkwardly and walked over to the one of the tables which had small ceramic painted handle-less cups on it. He picked up on the cups and turned it over to look at the price tag, when he noticed the Chinese symbol stuck on the underside. "Sherlock. Renee." The two walked over to him. "The label there,"  
"Yes, I see it." Sherlock said, and then he sent Renee a questioning look. "You were right." He said as he lead the other two out of the shop and down the street. "It's an ancient Chinese dialect." They neared a greengrocer's which had boxes of food outside, handwritten signs on them giving the names of the vegetables in both Chinese and English. John spotted a sign with the upside down eight and slash, its English equivalent beneath it.  
"It's a fifteen!" He exclaimed. "What we thought was an artist tag, it's a number fifteen."  
"And the blindfold, the horizontal line? That was a number as well. The Chinese number one!" Sherlock grinned triumphantly.  
"Renee, how on Earth did you know?" John asked. Renee paused, trying to come up with an explanation.  
"All part of my past," She said weakly, shrugging.  
"Is it really?" Sherlock raised his eyebrows at her before stalking away. Renee hurried after him to escape John's questioning looks.  
-  
_"Hey, Kayla?" There was a soft knock at the door, making Kayla look up. Jim stepped into the room, smiling widely at her. "What's up? You've been in your room for ages." Kayla shrugged silently, looking down at her hands again. Jim frowned, entering the room fully to sit down on her bed next to her. "Come on, don't you trust me?" He teased, nudging her arm with his own._  
_"Of course I do," She responded automatically, but her tone of voice didn't sound all too convincing._  
_"Sebastian told me what happened." Jim said in a softer voice. "What's going on in that head of yours?"_  
_"I killed a child, Jim," Kayla whispered, finally looking up to meet his eyes. He didn't look sympathetic at all. "Who does that?"_  
_"Ah," Jim nodded wisely. "You're having doubts, aren't you? Come on, Kayla, you're 32 now. It's been years since you started. What's making you falter after all these years?"_  
_"A kid, Jim," Kayla insisted. "She was only 6 years old."_  
_"You never cared about anyone else before." Jim shrugged. Kayla pursed her lips. "Come on. You're not thinking of stopping now, are you?" He asked, lifting her chin up with one finger. "You know I wouldn't let you do that. I would never let you leave me." His tone was teasing, but there was a underlying threat to his words that made Kayla shiver._  
_"No," She lied smoothly, sending him a soft smile. "I would never leave you, you know that. Sorry, I don't know what came over me."_  
_"It's fine," Jim grinned back. "Just make sure it doesn't happen again. I don't know what I'd do without you, OK?"_  
_"Right." Kayla nodded, and Jim tilted her chin up as he leaned down to press his lips on hers. She kissed back without thinking, but her head was screaming at her to stop. I have to stop this, she thought, I have to leave. And without Jim knowing, she started to plan an escape._


	7. M

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The end of the Blind Banker! Enjoy x

Sherlock, Renee and John were sitting at table in the window of the restaurant that was opposite The Lucky Cat, Sherlock writing down Hangzhou numbers and their English equivalents onto a paper napkin.  
"Two men travel back from China. Both head straight for the Lucky Cat emporium. What did they see?" John muttered, also taking down some notes.  
"It's not what they saw; it's what they both brought back in those suitcases." Sherlock corrected him.  
"And you don't mean duty free." John joked drily as a waitress brought over a plate of food, putting it down in front of him. "Thank you. Renee, are you sure you don't want anything?" Renee looked up, startled. She'd been staring out the window at the outside world with a sharp look in her eye. She felt like she was being watched.  
"Oh, right. Yeah, I'm fine thank you, John." She smiled at him.  
"Think about what Sebastian told us; Van Coon - about how he stayed afloat in the market." Sherlock continued, leaning forward across the table slightly.  
"Lost five million," John said.  
"Made it back in a week," Renee finished.  
"That's how he made such easy money," Sherlock nodded. "He was a smuggler. A guy like him - it would have been perfect. Business man making frequent trips to Asia. And Lukis was the same, a journalist writing about China. Both of them smuggled stuff out, and the Lucky Cat was their drop-off."  
"But why did they die? I mean, it doesn't make sense. If they both turn up at the shop and deliver the goods, why would someone threaten them and kill them after the event, after they'd finished the job?" John asked. Sherlock looked at Renee.  
"What do you think?" He asked.  
"Well," She said, leaning back in her chair to think for a minute. "What if one of them took something?" Sherlock smiled at her answer.  
"Exactly." He agreed.  
"And the killer doesn't know which one of them took it, so he threatens them both!" John said. Sherlock looked out of the window towards the shop, then raised his eyes to the windows above it.  
"Remind me." Sherlock said, focusing in on the Yellow Pages directory sealed in a plastic wrapper which had been left outside the door to the flat beside the Lucky Cat. "When was the last time it rained?" Without waiting for either of them to reply he stood and left the restaurant. John leaned back in his chair in exasperation, staring at his hardly eaten food, and then stood up with Renee, the both of them dutifully following Sherlock out in to the road. They found him bending down over the Yellow Pages by the door of the flat, Renee joining him to see what he was looking it. She noticed the plastic wrapper still had drops of water on it.  
"It's been here since Monday." Renee said. Sherlock nodded then straightened and pressed Soo Lin's doorbell. Hardly waiting for any answer he headed off to the right down the alleyway beside the flat.  
"No-one's been in that flat for at least three days." He told the other two.  
"Could've gone on holiday." John suggested.  
"D'you leave your window open when you go on holiday?" Sherlock asked, looking up to see a metal fire escape above his head. He backed up a bit, took a short run and then jumped up and grabbed the end, pulling it down until it touched the ground. He ran up the steps towards the open window of the flat and as he did so the ladder swung back up to the horizontal position below him.  
"Sherlock!" John called, realising that he and Renee were much too short to do what Sherlock had done.  
"Come on." Renee nudged his shoulder to get his attention, leading him back down the alley to the front of the building. The two of them waited outside for a bit until John opened the letter box to yell through it.  
"D'you think you could do what Renee did before and let us in?" He called. They got no answer. "Sherlock?!" They heard the mutter of Sherlock's voice, but weren't able to make out what he was saying with the everyday London noises around them. "What? What are you saying?" No answer. John stood back from the letterbox, groaning. "I'm wasting my breath." He said, shrugging at Renee. "Any time you want to include us! But no, I'm Sherlock Holmes and I nearly always work alone because no one else can compete with my MASSIVE INTELLECT!" He yelled the last words into the letterbox before turning to Renee. "Except of course, for you." Renee shook her hand in an exaggerated fashion.  
"You flatter me." She joked. John turned back to the door and rung on the doorbell before checking his watch.  
"Why do we bother sticking around?" He sighed. "We could just go back to Baker Street, I'm sure Mrs. Hudson would love some company." Renee made to reply when suddenly the front door swung open to reveal Sherlock adjusting his scarf.  
"The, uh, milk's gone off and the washing's starting to smell. Somebody left here in a hurry three days ago." He said, his voice croaky. Renee raised her eyebrows at him, noticing how ruffled he looked. He gave her a look that seemed to be asking her not to say anything as he closed the door behind him.  
"Somebody?" John asked.  
"Soo Lin Yao. We have to find her." Sherlock nodded, his voice still rough. He bent down to pick up a folded envelope that was on the floor. Renee leaned over his shoulder to see what it said.  
'SOO LIN, Please ring me tell me you're OK, Andy'  
Sherlock unfolded the envelope to look at the front of it. Printed in the bottom right hand corner was the logo for the National Antiquities Museum.  
"Maybe we could start with this." He said, his voice breaking, and headed off down the road, John and Renee following after him.  
"You've gone all croaky. Are you getting a cold?" John said innocently. Renee hid her chuckle behind her hand.  
"I'm fine." Sherlock coughed.  
-  
At the National Antiquities Museum Sherlock was pacing around a display area whilst he interviewed the male who had left the note outside Soo Lin's door.  
"When was the last time that you saw her?" Sherlock asked.  
"Three days ago, um, here at the museum." Andy answered, twisting his hands together nervously. Renee looked around her as Andy and Sherlock spoke, focusing briefly on a glass case showing some of the clay teapots. Most them were dull, apart from one shining one. "This morning they told me she'd resigned just like that. Just left her work unfinished."  
"What was the last thing that she did on her final afternoon?" Sherlock said. In reply, Andy lead the three of them to the basement archive, and turned the lights on as he lead them in.  
"She does this demonstration for the tourists, a - a tea ceremony. She would have packed up her things and just put them in here." Andy explained, leading them to the open stack. John moved to stand behind Andy as he opened the stack but Sherlock tapped Renee on the shoulder, pointing towards a life-sized sculpture of a nude woman hiding further away in the shadows. She followed after him towards it, her eyes widening as she saw the yellow paint that had been spray painted across the front of it - the same pattern that was on Sir William Shad's painting.  
-  
Holmes, Watson and Waters left the museum, walking back out into the night.  
"We have to get to Soo Lin Yao." Sherlock said.  
"If she's still alive." John said darkly.  
"Sherlock!" Called a voice, and Renee turned to see a shabby looking teenager running up to them.  
"Oh, look who it is." John said in an annoyed tone of voice.  
"Uh, who is it?" Renee asked.  
"You weren't there, were you?" John was about to burst into an explanation but Sherlock held his hand up over John's mouth, much to the man's annoyance as he swatted Sherlock's hand away.  
"Found something you'll like." The boy told Sherlock before turning on his heel and running off again, Sherlock hot on his heels. Renee gave John a confused look.  
"Just... follow." John sighed, and the two of them followed after Sherlock and the boy. The boy lead them to South Bank skate park and across the under-croft.  
"If you want to hide a tree, then a forest is the best place to do it, wouldn't you say?" Sherlock was saying as they walked along. "People would just walk straight past, not knowing, unable to decipher the message." The boy pointed to a particular area on the heavily-graffitied walls.  
"There, I spotted it earlier." He said proudly. Amongst all the other paint there are slashes of the yellow paint forming Chinese symbols, some partially painted over by other artists' tags and pictures.  
"Ah, so they have been in here." Sherlock grinned. "And that's the exact same paint?"  
"Yeah," The boy nodded.  
"John, Renee, if we're going to decipher this code, we're gonna need to look for more evidence." Sherlock said. "Let's split up and start searching."  
-  
Renee walked around through the darkness of London, using her flashlight to guide her as she inspected every little thing she saw. Shivering, she pulled her coat around her. Hurrying around in the dark like this had reminded her of things she'd rather not be reminded of - of old jobs for Jim that she had gone on, of running away, of how she had constantly spent her first few nights in hiding; in the dark, always in the dark. Trying not to think about her past she kneeled down to inspect something she'd seen on the ground, her thoughts travelling to Sherlock. She'd told her self she would keep away from him and yet here she was spending every day with him and John. He reminded her of Jim to an almost worrying amount. He could do some damage, Renee thought, if he just turned his intelligence against the world. But there was something about him, much like there was, admittedly, with Jim, that was just weirdly irresistible. Maybe it was her worrying attraction to danger, or the need to find someone else with a brain like hers. She had no clue, but she knew she had to be careful - if she found Sherlock Holmes interesting, God knows Jim would. And he probably already had heard of Sherlock before, Renee thought, as a memory came back to her.  
-  
_Kayla leaned against the door curiously, hearing the loud voices of Sebastian and Jim from inside._  
_"We can't tell her!" Jim was exclaiming._  
_"Why not?" Sebastian asked in an equally loud voice. "You said-"_  
_"Because we know what will happen. Renee will be intrigued, and-"_  
_"You just don't want anyone to take her away from you, isn't that it?"_  
_"And so what if it is?"_  
_"She isn't your possession, Jim, you don't own her." There was silence for a while._  
_"She stays here, with us, Sebastian. At all times. I've seen the doubt in her eyes recently, I think she's beginning to find what we're doing less and less fun." Kayla's eyes widened at Jim's words; he knew she was trying to leave him. He must know. "No matter what, Sebastian, we don't mention him." Their voices got quieter and Kayla could hardly hear anything else, only able to pick out a few words here and there._  
_"Kayla... dangerous... interested... Sherlock..." Kayla leaned back from the door. It didn't matter what they were talking about, she thought, all that mattered was that Jim knew she was having doubts. She had to speed up her escape plan, and she had to do it fast._  
-  
Renee frowned, kicking the dirt with the toe of her shoe. She never had found out exactly what they'd been talking about, she wasn't even sure at the time if she'd heard the name Sherlock or just misheard it completely. There was a loud clang to the right of her suddenly, pulling her out of her thoughts and making her jump as she turned that way. Her torch swung around with her to illuminate a dark, male figure standing a while away with a spray paint can at his feet. He turned to look at her, a mask covering half of his face, and didn't move.  
"Hey!" Renee called cautiously, taking a small step towards him. "What are you doing out here?" Her eyes flicked down to the spray paint can - it had a yellow top. Slowly, she turned to look at the wall the figure had been facing. It was covered in Chinese numbers. Renee gulped; this must be the guy they had been looking for. The figure tilted his head at her as if he was trying to get a good look at her face, and then turned tail and ran. Renee started at his movement and then immediately began sprinting after him, determined to catch their culprit. He was fast, but so was Renee. He looked over his shoulder at her as he ran through the darkness, illuminated every now and then by the torch in Renee's hand that bobbed up and down as she ran. Upon noticing she was nearing him, he did something Renee didn't expect - he swivelled on his heel and ran straight for her. Shocked, Renee paused in her running, freaking out slightly as the larger figure sped towards her. Seconds later he had reached her, lifting one of his hands, and she panicked, thrusting the torch up into his chin. He stumbled back, his fist missing Renee's face by a few inches. Seconds later and he recovered, aiming for her stomach this time. Renee's training immediately kicked in and she side stepped as fast as possible so he only clipped her in the side, twisting to lift her leg and shove her right heel into the back of his knees. His legs buckled underneath him ever so slightly, giving Renee time to compose her self and slam her elbow into the top of his neck, pushing him down fully onto his knees. Without hesitation she whacked the torch down onto his head and he crumpled forwards, not knocked out but incredibly dazed and on the verge of unconsciousness. Renee pulled her phone out of her pocket to call Sherlock, breathing heavily but grinning at her victory, when another figure appeared behind her. She whipped around in shock as she heard the sound of gravel beneath feet behind her, her torch briefly lighting up another half hidden face before it was snatched out of her hands. There was a loud, sickening thud and she fell to the ground at their feet.  
-  
Sherlock and John stood facing the wall Renee had previously been standing by, Sherlock with John's phone in his hand as he stared at the photo John had taken of the ciphers on the wall that he had seen before they disappeared.  
"Now we just have to figure out what these mean." Sherlock said. "Have you tried calling Renee?"  
"Yeah, she didn't pick up. Which is unusual." John said, looking slightly concerned. "Do you think she's just busy looking around still?" Sherlock shrugged, but he frowned too as he handed John's phone back to him.  
"Try phoning again." He ordered, which John did. They got no answer.  
"That is a bit weird," John mumbled. "Usually she picks up even when she's at work - Sherlock?" Sherlock was walking at a fast pace away from John, his torch pointed at the ground.  
"Footprints." He told John as John hurried up to him. "The same size feet as hers. She must have been here. She was moving fast."  
"Running?" John asked, looking concerned now.  
"Running." Sherlock confirmed in an ominously low tone of voice. The two of them picked up the pace into a jog, following the footprints a while further before Sherlock's torch caught sight of a large lump on the ground a while ahead of them. The two boys froze for a second.  
"Oh, God," John murmured to him self as Sherlock broke into a sprint, rushing to Renee's unmoving body. John ran after him immediately.  
"Renee?" Sherlock asked as he kneeled down beside her.  
"Let me see her." John ordered, slipping into Doctor mode. Sherlock moved aside so John could get closer to Renee, using his torch to light up her face. There was a nasty bruise on the right side of her head, but she was still breathing normally. "Right," John said, after leaning down to inspect her. "She's been knocked unconscious -"  
"By this." Sherlock interrupted, pointing to the torch that was lying by her head. "Someone must have hit her with that, judging by the shape and size of the bruise."  
"Pick her up," John ordered, standing up. "And handle her carefully. Her head is going to hurt like hell when she wakes up."  
"Why me?" Sherlock asked, his eyes wide.  
"Take a look at us both, Sherlock, which of us do you think it will be easier for to carry her?" John said in an exasperated voice. Sherlock grumbled something under his breath and then tucked his arms under Renee as slowly as he could, John lifting her head up so it didn't bump against the ground as Sherlock pulled her up. She lay limp in his arms. her head lolling to rest on his chest.  
"Well," Sherlock muttered as he stared down at her with narrowed eyes. There was something odd about the feeling of her in his arms, and he couldn't put his finger on it. "Back to Baker Street then."  
-  
_"Kayla?" Jim called as he stepped through Kayla's bedroom door. She looked up from where she'd been tapping away on her phone as she sat at her desk, smiling widely as she met his eyes._  
_"Jim!" She grinned up at him. Perfect timing, she thought, now I can put my first step of my escape plan into action. "What bring_ _s you here?"  
"You do," He replied with a wink, closing the door behind him and strolling further into the room. "Wherever you go, I go."  
"Alright, that was weirdly cheesy." Kayla said, pulling a face. "Do you want something from me?"  
"You caught me," Jim laughed, and then smiled innocently, holding his arms out wide. "I want a hug." Kayla stood from her chair to walk into his arms obligingly.  
"You only have to ask, you know," She mumbled against his chest as he held her close. "Had a rough day?"  
"Very," Jim sighed, burying his head in the crook of her neck. "And I haven't seen you nearly enough these past few days. You've been cooped up in here for days on end. What are you planning?"  
"Planning?" Kayla asked, pulling away from Jim to look up at him. "Why, nothing at all."  
"That didn't sound very convincing." Jim raised an eyebrow down at her. She shrugged. "Come on, what are you planning? You can tell me!" She bit her lip as if she was thinking about it, and then sighed dramatically.  
"OK, fine, I guess I'll tell you." She said, walking to her bed to sit down on it. He followed her to sit down at her side, watching her expectantly. "I think we should have a holiday." Jim frowned.  
"A holiday?"  
"Well, not exactly a holiday - just, go somewhere nice and do work there instead of being stuck here all the time." Kayla explained. "Get a change of scenery," She took a deep breath. "And be alone." Jim gave her an odd look.  
"Alone?" He repeated.  
"Yeah!" Kayla said enthusiastically. "Just us two!"  
"No Irene or Sebastian?" Jim tilted his head.  
"No Irene or Sebastian." Kayla nodded firmly. Jim's lips twitched up slightly.  
"I think I can agree with that." He smirked, sliding his arms back around her waist. Kayla cheered in her head - this was what she wanted. Go somewhere where there were hardly any people around that could stop her from leaving, far from where people like Sebastian and Irene were, and make her escape. "When shall we go?" He asked, leaning forward so their noses were touching.  
"As soon as possible." Kayla answered, wrapping her arms around his neck with a small smile. "You can choose where - just make it somewhere far away."  
"Where it can be just us two?" Jim asked.  
"Exactly." Kayla breathed.  
"Yes," Jim agreed. "I can definitely agree with that." He pressed his lips against hers, his eyes fluttering shut as he did so. Once again, Kayla kissed back without thinking, letting him lean forward until her back had hit the mattress of the bed. She was excited to leave - to be free - but as she kissed him she knew, deep down in her stomach, she'd also miss him a lot.  
_ -  
Renee awoke from her dream with a groan, her hand automatically flying to her forehead as a throbbing pain shot through it.  
"Oh, dear, you're awake!" Came a voice, and a motherly hand pushed her back down as she tried sitting up, squinting. "You just rest, deary, you've got an awful mark on your head there." Renee blinked several times, obediently lying back down on what she guessed was a sofa. Her vision came back to her, black dots dancing across her gaze as she caught sight of Mrs. Hudson leaning over her, tucking a blanket around her. "There you are!"  
"Mrs. Hudson?" Renee mumbled. "What's going on?"  
"Oooh, your ice pack fell off when you woke up - one second," Mrs. Hudson leaned down to pick an ice pack up off the floor, pressing it gently to Renee's head. Renee let out a grateful sigh, holding her hand against it as the feeling of the ice sent waves of cold through her head, dulling the pain. "You've had a nasty hit to the head, you have," Mrs. Hudson said as Renee's eyes fluttered shut once more. "It gave me such a fright to see that big bruise on your forehead when Sherlock and John brought you back. I swear, those boys are more trouble than-"  
"Sherlock!" Renee said suddenly, her eyes snapping back open. "John! We were looking for - and then I saw - I tried running after him but - there was another person and -"  
"Calm down!" Mrs. Hudson called. "Calm down! Sherlock explained what happened. Honestly, bringing a girl like you along on his case, I don't know what he was thinking. I'll be giving him a right earful when he gets back."  
"Gets back?" Renee asked. "From where? Where did they go? And how did I even get back here?"  
"They said something about seeing a girl at a museum. At this time of night as well! Poor girl. Also, Sherlock carried you. Just like a princess!" Mrs. Hudson grinned. Renee groaned - they'd gone to see Soo Lin Yao without her. _And_ Sherlock had carried her the whole way back - how embarrassing! She closed her eyes again, hoping nothing bad would happen, when her phone binged. She reached for it immediately, hoping it was Sherlock, ignoring the pang of pain in her forehead when she moved. It was from the anonymous number again.  
'We won't let it happen again, sorry.'  
Renee frowned deeply at the text before replying telling them that they must have the wrong number, wondering who these texts were really meant for. Pushing it to the back of her mind she decided to text Cassidy telling her what had happened and keep her updated on the findings of the case.  
'What?! You got hurt? OMG do you want me to come over? I can bring a cat to keep you company - cats look after people really well! xxx'  
Renee giggled at Cassidy's concerned reply,  
'Don't worry about it, Cassidy, but thank you for worrying. I'd love to go out once the case is solved though, you and Jerry. How about it? - RW'  
'We'll go out tomorrow - the pub - no matter if your case is solved or not. Your poor head needs some drinks to help sooth the pain. Don't worry about what Sherlock says. xxx'  
Well, I guess that's that, Renee thought in amusement.  
"Renee, deary, you get some rest now, OK?"Mrs. Hudson said, appearing seemingly out of nowhere to re-tuck Renee under her blanket in a concerned fashion. "The boys probably won't be back for a while and your head needs some serious sleep."  
"Are those the doctors orders?" Renee joked,  
"Even more serious - they're your landlady's orders." Mrs. Hudson said.  
"Alright, alright, I'm resting." Renee laughed, settling back down on the sofa. And before she knew it, her eyes had fluttered shut and she could no longer feel the throbbing pain in her forehead.  
-  
She woke up hours later to the sound of Sherlock and John's voices muttering to each other, a groan leaving her lips as her body automatically stretched upon waking up.  
"She's waking up," John's voice said in a hushed whisper.  
"Yes, I can see that," Sherlock's voice replied sarcastically. Renee's eyes flickered open, her hand flying up to cover her mouth as she yawned, and she sat up groggily, her now warm ice pack falling off of her head. She turned with squinted eyes to see John kneeling next to the sofa, smiling at her.  
"How's your head?" He asked. Sherlock watched the two of them a while behind John, his facial expression seeming to show he was annoyed that Renee had taken John's concentration away but his eyes showing he was at least a tiny bit interested in what Renee had to say - and perhaps even a bit concerned. Renee hummed, holding her hands up to her bruise, hissing in pain when they touched it.  
"It hurts to touch," She said with a shrug. "But one would expect that. It feels ok otherwise."  
"Just a bit tender then." John nodded, standing up. "You should put an ice pack on it again if it continues to throb, but otherwise it should be fine, just don't put any pressure on it."  
"Thank you, Doctor." Renee teased with a grin as she pulled the blanket that was over her legs off of her and swung her legs off the side of the sofa. As she did so she noticed that they were surrounded by crates of books. "Um... What's all this?" John sighed.  
"A lot has happened," He muttered, and Renee could tell from his expression it wasn't good.  
"What's wrong?" She asked in concern.  
"First," Sherlock interrupted. "I want to know what happened with you. How did you end up on the ground knocked out? I thought you knew self defence." Renee glared at him.  
"I saw the guy spray painting the wall, he saw me, legged it, I ran after him, caught up to him, and we got in a fight."  
"And he overpowered you and knocked you out?" Sherlock asked in a biting tone. "Not very good self defence then."  
"Actually, I overpowered him and knocked him out," Renee said, annoyed. "There just happened to be another one who snuck up behind me in the dark whilst I was fighting the first guy." Sherlock hesitated.  
"Oh." He said.  
"Now, what happened with you?" Renee said, turning to John.  
"It's a long story."  
-  
"Soo Lin Yao's own brother killed her?" Cassidy asked in shock the next day at work as Renee and her were in the back of the shop sorting out newly arrived book.  
"Yep," Renee sighed as she kneeled down besides a large pile of books, beginning to separate them into age groups as she spoke. "There was nothing Sherlock or John could have done."  
"That's terrible! Poor girl." Cassidy said, her eyes downcast. "I can't imagine what her life must have been like. To live such a terrible life, then finally escape from it-"  
"-And have it catch back up with you." Renee said in an ominous tone of voice. "Yes, I can imagine that must be terrible."  
"So then what happened?"  
"Well, Sherlock and John figured out the numbers were references to books. So, the first cipher was a fifteen and a one, so if you turn to page fifteen it's the first word on that page." Renee explained.  
"Oh, I see! But which book is it referring to?" Cassidy asked.  
"That's what they spent the whole night trying to figure out. Poor John, he was up the whole night helping Sherlock and he has his job today. Sherlock was royally pissed off when I left for work too, he has to keep on going through the books by him self." Renee scoffed. "I don't see why he doesn't get annoyed when John goes to work but he does when I do."  
"I can guess a reason why," Cassidy winked, wincing when Renee shot a sharp glare her way. "Anyway!" She moved on hastily. "The pub tonight, right?" Renee made to reply when her phone dinged.  
'Circus, tonight. John and his girlfriend. Could have a lead on the case. - SH'  
Renee groaned and showed Cassidy the text.  
"How annoyed do you think he'll be if I say I can't go?" Renee said. Her phone dinged again.  
'You can bring your friends if they promise not to talk. -SH'  
Cassidy looked up and grinned at Renee in excitement.  
"I haven't been to the circus since I was a kid." She grinned.  
"Hey, keep in mind the circus people may be real life murderers!" Renee said. "Are you sure you want to be bringing Jerry to that?"  
"Uh, yeah." Cassidy said as if Renee was dumb. "It's the circus?" Renee rolled her eyes.  
"You really shouldn't be this excited."  
"But this is way better than the pub!"  
-  
"Do you think there'll be clowns?" Cassidy asked as they skipped towards the circus' venue. "I hope not - I don't like clowns."  
"Why were you so excited about the circus if you don't like clowns?" Renee said in exasperation.  
"There won't be any clowns," Jerry told Cassidy. "It's not that sort of circus."  
"Do you think they'll do tight rope walking?" Cassidy carried on speaking. "I hope not - I don't like tight rope walking."  
"How can you like the circus at all if you hate clowns and tight rope walking?" Renee said, not hearing Cassidy's reply as her phone dinged.  
'Inside with John and girlfriend. Hurry up. -SH'  
'Just coming. Be patient. -RW'  
"Oooh, are you texting Sherlock?" Cassidy giggled as she noticed Renee on her phone. Renee ignored her pointedly as they reached the ticket booth.  
"Three tickets under Waters, please." She told the person behind the booth with a smile. Once they received their tickets they made their way into the performance area. Immediately Renee spotted John with his girlfriend and Sherlock stood right behind them, and immediately steered Cassidy and Jerry to the opposite side of the hall.  
"Why aren't we joining them?" Jerry said.  
"Don't want to crash John's date." Renee said. "Looks like Sherlock's already done that for us," Sherlock noticed them as they took their places on the other side of the hall and sent Renee an annoyed look, beckoning her over. John happened to look up as he did so and caught Renee's eye. His face fell and he shot her a look of annoyance as if to ask her what on Earth she was doing there as well. She shrugged at him guiltily and held her hand to her lips to tell him not to let his girlfriend know he knew her. Behind John Sherlock was still trying to get Renee's attention, until finally he gave up and sent her a text,  
'Come over. -SH'  
'We don't all like crashing John's dates, Sherlock. Come over here. -RW'  
From across the performance hall Sherlock shot her a look of annoyance, but left John's side anyway to walk around the crowd of people and over to Renee, Cassidy and Jerry.  
"Remember," Renee whispered as Sherlock neared them. "I made you guys promise not to talk," Jerry and Cassidy nodded in amusement, sharing a look with each other as Sherlock reached them. He took his place next to Renee, hands held behind his back.  
"Keep an eye out." He ordered.  
"Yes, sir." Renee mumbled in reply, earning her self a dirty look from Sherlock as the performance started. There was the sound of someone tapping out a rhythm on a drum as an ornately dressed Chinese woman with a painted face walked into the centre of the circle that was lit up beautifully with several candles. She looked out proudly over the audience, raising one hand in the air to silence the drummer. She walked across the circle slowly to a large object covered with a cloth that she pulled back to reveal an old looking crossbow on a stand. She picked up a long, thick wooden arrow with a vicious metal point at the end and showed it off to the audience before fitting it into place on the crossbow. Then she pulled a single small white feather from her headdress, again showing it off to the audience, before dropping it into a small metal cup on the rear of the crossbow. Instantly, the arrow was released, flying across the room at a high speed and embedding it self in a large painted board on the other side of the circle. Renee heard a gasp beside her and turned to see Cassidy with a hand on her chest and the other hand gripping onto Jerry's arm, a large grin on her face. Jerry smiled down at his girlfriend, putting an arm around her waist. Renee winced at the sight; it reminded her of Jim. The audience applauded as a new person entered the circle, docked out in chain mail and an ornate head mask. He held his arms out to the side and two other men came over, attaching heavy chains to him and strapping his now-folded arms in front of his chest. He was backed up against a board and chained up against it.  
"Classic Chinese escapology act." Sherlock said softly, and Renee turned to look up at him. "The crossbow’s on a delicate string. The warrior has to escape his bonds before it fires." The Chinese lady displayed a small knife to the audience. "She splits the sandbag; the sand pours out; gradually the weight lowers into the bowl." He leaned down slightly closer to Renee as he whispered so she could hear him. The Chinese lady did just as Sherlock had said, stabbing the knife into the bottom of a small sandbag hanging on a long cable. Sand began to pour out as the warrior repeatedly cried out as he tugged at his chains. The sand continued to pour out of the bag, the weight it was attached to lowering towards the bowl at the back of the crossbow. The warrior got one hand free. Renee felt Cassidy grab her hand and turned to see the woman staring intensely at the crossbow with a look of horror on her face. The warrior tugged his other hand free and began pulling at the chains around his neck. The weight was now only a few feet above the bowl, getting ever closer. As it reached almost the tip of the bowl the warrior loosened the chains around his neck and then ducked down, freeing him self completely just as the weight touched the bowl and the arrow flew across the room, slamming into the board above the warrior. The warrior cried out triumphantly and Cassidy released Renee's hand to join in the applause, whooping loudly. Sherlock tapped Renee on the shoulder and she turned around to see him pointing in the direction of the stage which was hidden behind a large curtain. Jerry turned, noticing their movement as they began to slip away amongst the audience's applauding, but Renee simply held a finger to her lips. Jerry grinned at her and made a motion of zipping his lips shut before turning back to the performance.  
Behind the curtain was where the performer's dressing room was. There were dressing tables with mirrors, free-standing clothes rails and many other things all around. Sherlock nudged Renee in the direction of the clothes rail to tell her to go and take a look over there which she did none too happily. Outside in the performance hall she heard the ooh's and ah's of the audience, and part of her wished she was still out there to watch it instead of snooping around the dressing room. She kneeled down behind the clothes rail to look at a bag that was lying on the ground when Sherlock jumped through the clothes, his hand immediately clamping it self over her mouth so she couldn't make a noise of surprise. She struggled for a few seconds before realising someone had entered the same space as them and then kept quiet, kneeling down with Sherlock behind the clothing rail as the person - a woman, if she judged correctly by the footsteps - moved closer. If she hadn't been so worried about being discovered she would have noticed just how uncomfortable the position she was in was. She was curled up in a small ball with Sherlock leaning over her with his hand still over her mouth for some reason, the two of them as close as possible so the woman wouldn't see them. The footsteps got closer and Renee automatically held her breath as they paused right by Sherlock and Renee, but luckily for the two of them the footsteps, along with the woman, soon left the room. Sherlock took his hand away from Renee's mouth and she let out a breath as Sherlock stood, giving her space.  
"Sorry about that." He mumbled, not meeting her eye. He was too busy staring at the hand he'd had over her mouth as if it was an alien. Renee gave him an odd look and then leaned back down to pick up the bag she had been previously staring at. She gasped as she opened it - there were several spray cans inside, a yellow band across the bottom of the can that showed what colour the paint was. Sherlock turned to look at what she'd found at her gasp and immediately snatched the spray can from her hand, rushing over to a dressing table mirror and spraying a yellow line across it. Renee followed after him.  
"Found you!" Sherlock sung quietly, a grin growing on his face. Renee stared in the mirror - something was wrong. The warrior's costume that was shown behind them in the mirror was moving. A sense of dread sprung through Renee's gut and she twisted around just in time to dodge a swipe from the man in the warrior's costume, stumbling over her feet and falling back. As she fell down the man in the costume turned to Sherlock, forcing him to jump back as he dodged the man's attacks. Renee pushed her self back onto her feet as Sherlock backed away from the man. She rushed back to the bag, grabbing a spray can, and then ran for the warrior, shoving her foot into the back of his knees as she reached him, just as she had done with the masked figure the night before. The man fell onto his knees, twisting to try and hit her as he did so. He caught her side and she stumbled again, giving him time to get back on his feet and turn back to Sherlock. As he did so Renee threw Sherlock the spray paint can, and he sprayed it directly onto the man's face, running for him and shoving him away. The warrior fell onto his feet but used his momentum to raise his legs, rolling forward and flipping back onto his feet. He moved to jump at Sherlock but Renee ran for him, using all her weight to push him back, her hands around his waist as she did so. The two of them flew through the curtains onto the performance stage, hitting the ground with a large thud. Winded by the landing, Renee struggled to pull her self away from the man in the warrior'es costume as Sherlock jumped through the curtains after them. The man sat up almost immediately, pulling Renee up with him by her hair. She cried out as he did so, trying to elbow him in the ribs, but before she knew it there was a knife to her neck. There was a horrified gasp from the audience as he held the knife there, not moving. Sherlock held his hands up in the air in a surrendering position, his eyes wide. Renee hissed a bit, struggling in the man's grip. He grunted, waving the knife in her face as a warning and still holding her up by her hair.  
"You know," Sherlock said. "You really should expect attacks from all angles." The man hesitated, confused by Sherlock's words, and then there was a loud crunch and the knife fell from his hands onto the floor as he released Renee, who stumbled forwards into Sherlock's arms. Sherlock caught her swiftly, his arms wrapping around her waist to keep her balanced. Behind the man Cassidy had ran up with the arrow from the board and whacked it over the top of the man's head before swinging it into his ribs twice. He fell to the ground, holding his side. Before Renee had time to react or realise she had fallen straight into Sherlock's arms he had grabbed her hand and began running away from the man. John, who had been staring in shock and horror, grabbed Sarah's hand and followed after them, Cassidy and Jerry sharing a look before also running in the same way.  
-  
Renee rubbed her head as she, John and Sherlock followed Detective Inspector Dimmock into his office. Her temple hurt from where her hair had been pulled so harshly and her head was throbbing again.  
"I sent a couple of cars. The old hall is totally deserted." Dimmock said.  
"Look, I saw the mark at the circus - that tattoo that we saw on the two bodies: the mark of the Tong." Sherlock said.  
"Lukis and Van Coon were part of a smuggling operation. Now, one of them stole something when they were in China; something valuable." John added.  
"These circus performers were gang members sent here to get it back." Sherlock said.  
"Get _what_ back?" Dimmock snapped, obviously not in a good mood. Renee sighed.  
"We don't know." She admitted.  
"You don't know?" Dimmock repeated. "Mr. Holmes... I've done everything you asked. Lestrade, he seems to think your advice is worth something." At his words Sherlock looked up, smiling a small, proud smile. "I gave the order for a raid. Please tell me I'll have something to show for it - other than a massive bill for overtime."  
-  
John, Sherlock and Renee returned to outside Scotland Yard where Sarah, Cassidy and Jerry were waiting. Cassidy looked up as they exited, rushing towards Renee.  
"Are you sure you're alright?" She asked, grabbing Renee's hands in her own.  
"My head just hurts a bit, that's all." Renee assured Cassidy as they headed towards the main street for a taxi.  
"Are you sure?" Jerry asked as he joined them.  
"Yes, you were doing a lot of... fighting, back there." Sherlock said, and Renee jumped, having not noticed him coming up behind them.  
"Usually I'm a bit better at 'fighting' than that," She laughed. "I'm just a bit rusty. It's all thanks to Cassidy here I'm alright."  
"I would have figured something out." Sherlock sniffed, wrapping his coat around him tighter. Cassidy shared an amused look with Renee.  
"So, are we going back to Baker Street, then?" Cassidy asked eagerly.  
"Cassidy!" Jerry exclaimed. "Sorry, Sherlock, ignore her, we don't want to intrude on anything. You probably have a lot more you need to be focusing on, right Cassidy?" He said firmly as he turned to his girlfriend. She sighed.  
"Alright." She mumbled. "But I am expecting an invitation to Baker Street soon, OK Renee?"  
"Of course." Renee smiled warmly at them. "And Cassidy, thank you again for - well, saving my life."  
"Don't mention it." Cassidy grinned. "You can pay me back in overtime at the bookshop."  
"Consider it done." Renee gave Cassidy a warm hug, and then turned to follow Sherlock, John and Sarah to where a taxi was waiting to bring them back to Baker Street.  
-  
When they entered Baker Street Renee automatically went to walk into 221C but Sherlock caught her by the arm.  
"Come up." He ordered, pointing up the stairs. She pursed her lips, wanting nothing more than to get into bed, but gave in with a sigh, following him up the stairs.  
"They'll be back in China by tomorrow." John said as they entered 221B.  
"No," Sherlock disagreed. "They won't leave without what they came for. We need to find their hide-out; the rendezvous." He walked closer to the photos on the wall, staring at them intensely. Sherlock ran his fingers over the picture of the painted brick wall that John had taken with his phone. "Somewhere in this message it must tell us." He murmured. Renee watched him and John staring silently at the wall, sending Sarah an awkward look as she stood there.  
"Um," Sarah said finally. "Well, I think perhaps I should leave you to it."  
"No, no, you don't have to go, does she? You can stay." John said hurriedly.  
"Yes, it would be better to study if you left now." Sherlock said at the same time. John shot him a dark look.  
"He's joking. Please stay if you like." John told Sarah, who stared nervously towards Sherlock. She then turned to look at Renee, who smiled at her in a friendly fashion.  
"Stay as long as you want." She nodded, and John gave her a grateful look.  
"Is it just me, or is anyone else starving?" Sarah asked. Sherlock sighed loudly. John eyed his friend in annoyance,  
"Yeah, me too." He agreed, and headed off to the fridge. As he searched the kitchen for food, Sherlock sat down at the dining table, signalling for Renee to sit down next to him. She did so without question, looking out over all the photos, notes and drawings as Sherlock began rummaging through them, shoving random ones into Renee's hands for inspection every so often. Beside them Sarah was looking at the pictures on the mirror.  
"So that is what you and John and - sorry I never caught your name?" Sarah said. Renee turned to grin at her.  
"Renee Waters." She said.  
"Renee," Sarah smiled. "Is this what you guys do for a living? Solve puzzles?"  
"Consulting detective." Sherlock corrected Sarah.  
"I actually work at a bookshop," Renee said. "But I've started helping out Sherlock and John recently, just here and there." Sarah walked over to Sherlock and Renee, looking over their shoulders.  
"What are these squiggles?" She asked, pointing to the piece of paper Sherlock was holding.  
"They're numbers. An ancient Chinese dialect." He said sharply,  
"Oh right! Yeah, well, of course I should have known that." Sarah muttered. Renee gave her an apologetic look. Sarah wondered around the table, picking up the photograph of the brick wall which Dimmock had brought back sealed in an evidence bag. Sherlock glared at her in fury before turning his head away, obviously trying his best not to murder her.  
"So these numbers - it's a cipher." Sarah said.  
"Yeah," Renee nodded at the same time Sherlock snapped, "Obviously."  
"And each pair of numbers is a word." Sarah added. Sherlock lifted his head, staring at Renee in amazement.  
"How did you know that?" He asked.  
"Well, two words have already been translated, here." Sarah put the picture down on the desk to point at it, Sherlock swiping it from her and staring at it.  
"John, Renee," He said. "Look at this." Renee peeped over Sherlock's shoulder to look at the picture. Written neatly, a word had been scribbled across each of the first two sets of symbols. ""Nine", and "Mill""  
"Does that mean 'millions'?" John asked as he joined them.  
"Nine million quid." Sherlock squinted.  
"For what though?" Renee asked curiously. Sherlock twisted around, reaching for his coat and scarf.  
"We need to know the end of this sentence."  
"Where are you going?" John called.  
"To the museum; to the restoration room. Oh, we must have been staring right at it"" He cried.  
"At what?" John frowned.  
"The book, John. The book - they key to cracking the cipher! Soon Lin used it to do this! Whilst we were running around the gallery, she started to translate the code. It must be on her desk!" And with that he disappeared through the door and down the stairs. Renee blinked, and then stood up, sending John an exasperated look.  
"I'll leave you two alone." She said, smiling at Sarah and John.  
"R-Right," John said, still confused by Sherlock's sudden disappearance. As Renee headed out she overheard Sarah's whisper to John,  
"Is she his girlfriend, then?"  
-  
Renee sat in her pyjamas cleaning her face free of makeup down in 221C, humming a tune to her self as she did so, when her phone dinged. She reached for it absent mindedly.  
'No, this is the right number.'  
Renee frowned at her phone - it was from that anonymous number again. Shrugging, she decided to ignore it for now, placing her phone back on her desk, when there was a sharp rap at the door. Her eyebrows rose. It didn't sound like John. Maybe Sarah just had a really strong knock, she wondered as she stood to open the door. She opened it to reveal a Chinese man wearing a jacket with the hood pulled up. Immediately, Renee was on the defence. Something was wrong here.  
"Who are you?" She asked.  
"Renee Waters?" The man asked. Renee hesitated, and then moved to slam the door shut in his face and lock it. The man pushed against the door, easily pushing it open back into Renee's face. She tripped back over her feet, falling over. Automatically her hands went up to hide her face as the man bent down, a pistol slipping out of his pocket.  
"Wai -!" She cried just as the pistol hit the side of her head where there was no bruise. Black dots swarmed in front of her eyes and she fell to the floor limp.  
-  
Renee's eyes fluttered open, her vision returning with pain now on the other side of her head to her bruise.  
Great, she thought, trying to move her hand to reach up to her head then panicking once realising her wrists were tied together. Immediately she began to try controlling her panicked breathing, twisting to see where she was. She was propped up against the wall of a large, dark room, her wrists and ankles tied together, a gag in her mouth. A fire was burning in a dustbin which was stood a while in front of her, and in front of that was a chair with John tied down to it. Beside him was Sarah, also tied to a chair, awake and struggling with a gag in her mouth. Renee blinked before narrowing her eyes, trying to figure out a way of their current position. As she did so John's head rose slowly, and she realised he was waking up.  
""A book is like a magic garden carried in your pocket."" Someone quoted, and Renee turned her head to see a Chinese woman wearing dark sunglasses - which Renee couldn't help rolling her eyes at, considering the room was incredibly dark as it was - who walked towards John. Two Chinese men stood behind the approaching woman, and a couple of other fires were scattered around the abandoned tunnel. A few feet ahead of John and Sarah was a large object covered with cloth. The woman raised her sunglasses to the top of her head and looked down at John.  
"Chinese proverb, Mr. Holmes." She said. Renee's eyebrows shot up.  
"I... I'm not Sherlock Holmes." John said in confusion.  
"Forgive me if I do not take your word for it." The woman gave a fake smile and then pulled open John's jacket, rummaging in the inside pocket. She took out his wallet, opening it and taking out the cheque Sebastian had given him.  
"A cheque for five thousand pounds made out in the name of Mr. Sherlock Holmes." She said.  
"Yeah," John said in a panicked voice, "He gave me that to look after."  
"Tickets from the theatre, collected by you, name of Holmes."  
"Yes... Okay, I realise what this looks like, but I'm not him." John insisted.  
"We heard it from your own mouth," The woman said, and Renee remembered John shouting into Soo Lin Yao's letterbox. "I'm Sherlock Holmes and I always work alone..." She groaned through her gag. This was bad. "When you were with the girl." The woman turned to look at Renee, finally noticing she was awake too. "Oh, look, our little princess is awake." Renee frowned, tilting her head. "You don't need to worry about her, Mr. Holmes," The woman said. "We're not allowed to lay a finger on her." Renee gave her a look that seemed to say 'really?'. If she had her hands free she would have pointed to the big bruise and cut on her forehead. But she did wonder what the woman meant by 'not allowed'. Not allowed by who? And why? John stared at Renee in equal confusion when the woman suddenly pulled out a small pistol. John cringed away, his breathing growing panicked.  
-  
"John! Renee! I've got it!" Sherlock ran through the kitchen door, noticed no one there and then ran into the living room, brandishing his newly discovered A-Z London book. "The cipher! The book! It's the London A-Z that they're using..." He trailed off in horror, staring in shock at the yellow paint that has been sprayed across the living room windows. "John?" He called. No answer. His eyes widened. "Renee?!" He cried, and flew down the stairs only to find 221C's door completely open with the same yellow paint sprayed across the door. There was a small bit of blood on the floor. Sherlock backed away from it, breathing slightly heavily as he mumbled Renee's name under his breath. He rushed back upstairs to a bookcase. "Tramway..." He mumbled, loosing control of his usually razor-sharp brain in fear for his friends. "Oh, Christ..." He spotted a folded map of London and grabbed it, running to the dining table to spread it out. He ran his finger over it for a bit before stabbing it down on the location he wanted. "There!" And he sped out of the door.  
-  
"If we wanted to kill you, Mr. Holmes, we would have done it by now. We just wanted to make you inquistive." The woman was saying. "Now. Do you have it?"  
"Do I have what?" John asked.  
"The treasure,"  
"I don't know what you're talking about!"  
"I would prefer to make certain." She turned to look at one of her men who pulled the cover off the large object to reveal the crossbow which was used at the circus. An arrow was already loaded in. Renee's breath caught in her throat and at the sight she automatically tried standing up, but her legs were too weak to hold her and she slid back down the wall. "Everything in the West has its price, and the price for her life..." She turned to stare pointedly at Sarah. "Is information." Sarah began to sob against her gag, tugging in vain at the ropes tying her to her chair as the crossbow was aimed towards her. "Where's the hairpin?" The woman asked John.  
"What?" John asked, also tugging at his bonds. He turned to give Renee a helpless look as she continued trying to desperately stand up. She shook her head at him to signal she was trying to do the best she could. Her brain wasn't thinking properly, she was too panicked.  
"The Empress pin valued at nine million sterling. We already had a buyer in the West; and then one of our people was greedy. He took it, brought it back to London and you, Mr Holmes, have been searching." The woman said.  
"Please. Please, listen to me. I'm not... I'm not Sherlock Holmes. You have to believe me, I haven't found whatever it is you're looking for!" He said. Renee tugged desparately at the ropes around her wrist behind her back, her eyes widening when it began to grow loose. She began tugging even harder, eyes locked on Sarah's sobbing form.  
"I need a volunteer from the audience!" The woman called. "Ah, thank you lady. Yes, you'll do very nicely." The woman said, walking over to Sarah. Renee pulled harder at her restraints - and they came loose. She grinned, knowing that everyone was too busy focusing on John to notice her as she untied her feet as quickly as possible. The woman took out a knife, reaching up to a nearby sandbag suspended over a pulley hanging from the ceiling. She stabbed the knife into the bag and sand began to pour out. Renee stood, shaking the ropes off of her, and ran straight for Sarah, not hearing John's sigh of relief as she raced past him in a panic. Immediately the men by the crossbow moved for her, but the woman held up a hand. "Don't hurt the girl!" She shouted as they neared Renee. Renee kneeled down behind Sarah, fumbling with the ropes in her panic to undo them. "Get her away from the lady, but DO NOT hurt Miss. Waters!" The men continued advancing on her. Knowing she couldn't take them both at once she continued loosening Sarah's rope until they reached her, pulling her up by the arms and dragging her away as she struggled against them. The woman moved to tie Sarah back up, but at that point her ropes were too loose and she was pulling her arms free, reaching down to untie her legs in a hurry.  
"You really should have made sure you tied Miss. Water's bonds properly." Sherlock's voice rung out, echoing out through the tunnel. The woman immediately turned, her gun pointing towards the voice. "Although I have a feeling no matter how tight her bonds, Renee would find a way no matter what. By the way, that's a semi-automatic. If you fire it, the bullet will travel at over a thousand metres per second." Sherlock darted out from behind a large storage container at the side of the tunnel, thwacking the man that was approaching him across the stomach with a metal pipe. The man let out a yelp and collapsed to the ground, Sherlock immediately darting back into the shadows. "The radius curvature of these walls is nearly four metres. If you miss, the bullet will ricochet. Could hit anyone. Might even bounce off the tunnel and hit you." With that, he burst out of the darkness, kicking over the nearest burning dustbin so it was even darker in the tunnel making it harder to spot him. He reappeared in front of Sarah, squatting down to undo the ropes on her legs as her shaky fingers are unable to do anything against the tight bindings. One of the men holding Renee let go to run at Sherlock and Renee took that chance to swivel around and slam the palm of her hand into the throat of the man behind her. He choked, letting go of her other arm, and she tightened her right fist, aiming for his throat. The man saw it coming and automatically ducked, but that only brought his chin in line with Renee's hand. He stumbled back as her fist hit him and she immediately grabbed him by the shoulders, pulling him down. There was a sickening crunch as her knee met his nose and he fell back, clutching it with a cry. Renee turned to see Sherlock battling with the other man and rushed to Sarah to undo her ropes whilst Sherlock was busy with the other man. The sandbag was nearly at the metal cup that would set off the arrow, making Renee's fingers fumble in panic as she undid the ropes, but still she managed to do it in time. Sarah tumbled out of the chair into Renee's arms who dragged her down into a ducking position just as Sherlock managed to get free of the other man's hold, pushing him forward just as the arrow fired off, whizzing across the room and burying it self in the other man's stomach. He grunted, his face full of shock, then toppled to the floor inches away from Renee and Sarah. Sherlock stood,  looking around for the woman, but she has already fled, the sounds of running footsteps distant to his ears. Renee sat up, pulling a sobbing Sarah with her. Sherlock kneeled down next to them, undoing Sarah's gag for her and smiling at her kindly.  
"It's all right, you're gonna be all right. It's over now. It's over," He whispered, placing a reassuring hand on her shaking shoulder. Renee paused in stroking Sarah's back comfortingly to send Sherlock a surprised look, a small smile flickering over her face at his kind words. Sherlock caught her staring and sent her a tiny smile that she sent back before Sherlock stood, moving to free John from his ropes. Sarah stayed curled up in Renee's arms, sobbing as Renee kept her close, saying anything comforting that came to mind.  
-  
Later, the police had arrived to clear up the mess. Dimmock was waiting beside a police car just outside the tunnel. John put his arm around Sarah's shoulder which was covered in a shock blanket and walked her away. Sherlock and Renee were just behind them but they stopped to talk to Dimmock,  
"We'll just slip off. No need to mention us in your report," Sherlock said.  
"Mr. Holmes-"  
"I have high hopes for you, Inspector. A glittering career."  
"I go where you point me." Dimmock shrugged.  
"Exactly," Sherlock said, and Renee smiled at his words. As the two of them walked away, Sherlock turned to Renee. "What do you think they meant, Renee?"  
"Hm?" Renee asked.  
"She said they couldn't hurt you." Sherlock said. "Why would they not be allowed to hurt you?"  
"I don't know." Renee shrugged. "Maybe they have a thing for 36 year olds who work in bookshops," She joked. Sherlock smiled, and then made to say something before hesitating.  
"So..." He said, looking away. "Do you think you'll come along with the next case?"  
"Hm?" Renee tilted her head. "I thought we agreed only one more case?"  
"Well, yes, but... You've been a lot of help," Sherlock admitted, finally meeting her eyes with a smile.  
"Is that so?" Renee grinned. "Well, in that case, perhaps I shall."  
-  
The Chinese woman, whose name is Shan, sat at a desk in a dark room, facing a computer. Her image was being transmitted to the other person but the space on the screen that should have been showing the other person's face was marked "No image available." The text box from the other person was simply marked 'M'.  
"Without you - without your assistance - we would not have found passage into London. You have my thanks." Shan said in a nervous voice, The computer beeped.  
M: GRATITUDE IS MEANINGLESS. IT IS ONLY THE EXPECTATION OF FURTHER FAVOURS.  
"We did not anticipate... we did not know this man would come - this Sherlock Holmes. And now your safety is compromised." Shan said.  
M: AND WHAT OF THE GIRL?  
"Miss. Waters? She..."  
M: SHE HAD A VERY NASTY BRUISE AND CUT ON HER HEAD, I'VE BEEN TOLD,  
"Oh - " Shan gulped. "She ... It was ... That was because ...."  
M: I TOLD YOU NO HARM WAS TO COME TO HER  
"I promise, it was not our intention to harm her!"  
M: YOU WILL NOT LAY EVEN YOUR EYES ON HER EVER AGAIN  
"I swear to you, I will not even think of her!"  
M: I AM CERTAIN.  
Unseen by Shan, the red light of a rifle's laser sight appeared in the centre of her forehead. There was a single gunshot, the sound of a bullet breaking glass, and then silence.


End file.
